A Brother to Basilisks
by Lomonaaeren
Summary: AU of PoA. Eventual HPDM slash. Harry wakes in the night to a voice calling him from somewhere in the castle. He follows it- and everything changes. Updated every Friday.
1. Hurried Images

**Title: **A Brother to Basilisks

**Disclaimer: **J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.

**Pairings: **Eventual Harry/Draco and Ron/Hermione

**Warnings: **Angst, violence, some gore, AU from _Prisoner of Azkaban _onwards

**Rating: **R

**Summary: **AU of PoA. Harry wakes in the night to a voice calling him from somewhere in the castle—and when he follows it, everything changes.

**Author's Notes: **This is a canon-divergent AU that starts after Chapter 7 of _Prisoner of Azkaban. _It will probably run to at least the mid-point of _The Half-Blood Prince_. It will also be long.

The title is based on a quote from the Book of Job: "I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls."

**A Brother to Basilisks**

_Chapter One—Hurried Images_

Harry turned over in his bed and once again kicked his covers off sullenly. It was too hot, he thought. He was too tired. He wanted to sleep, and he couldn't. His brain was charging along like the Hogwarts Express.

Why did Lupin not let him fight the boggart?

No matter how much Harry tried to think of other things, it kept coming back to that. Lupin thought he was weak because Harry had fainted on the train. Or he had listened to that git Snape and what he was always saying about Harry even though he hadn't listened to what Snape said about Neville. Or he just thought Harry might be disastrous at it because he'd listened to stories Professor McGonagall told him.

_It's not like I mean to run into trouble. It's not like I have a choice!_

But something hard struck Harry's ears before he could start another round of questioning himself and trying to remember every part of Lupin's expression for an answer. He heard someone _calling _him. It sounded like _Help, help, help_, a steady sound that was far away but near enough that Harry sat up and stared wildly around. He wondered why no one else had heard it.

They hadn't, though. They were all asleep. Ron was snoring, and so was Neville, who didn't sleep well all that often.

For once, Harry hesitated, the image of Lupin and the way he'd stood in front of the boggart so Harry couldn't fight in his mind. _They all think that I'm some sort of troublemaker. I'd probably be proving them right if I went and got involved in this, right? I should just stay in bed and pull the curtains around me and pretend that none of this is happening._

But the voice went on calling, and it was so _strange, _not saying his name, but just repeating the call for help again and again. Harry argued with himself as he slid out of bed and put on his glasses and made sure he had his wand. If it was a trap for him, specifically for _him_, then it would be saying his name, right? It would be trying to lure him to it. Instead, it was just sitting there and calling, and _anyone _could have heard it.

He had the feeling that Lupin wouldn't be impressed with that argument if he heard it, but Harry wasn't very impressed with _him _right now.

He did take his Invisibility Cloak and drape it over himself. There, that would keep Sirius Black away.

* * *

><p>Following the call was frustrating.<p>

No matter how many steps or corridors or corners Harry walked, it was always ahead of him, and then to the side, and it never sounded like it was louder or further away. It just called, the same word over and over. Harry was starting to wonder if one of the ghosts needed help. It didn't sound like a human voice.

_Or maybe Sirius Black fell into a trap that Dumbledore set, and now he's calling me, and I'm the only one who can hear him._

Harry clutched his wand. He didn't know exactly how that could happen, but there were lots of things he didn't understand in the wizarding world that people kept telling him were possible. Like Tom Riddle's diary existing, or Dementors being on the side of good, or Snape being a good teacher.

He finally came to a halt in the middle of a corridor and closed his eyes. He would just walk along until he found the voice, he decided. Maybe it would work better if he wasn't looking and just let his ears guide him. He didn't think he would run into Mrs. Norris or Filch. It was too late.

_Help, help, help, help, help, help…_

Harry finally walked into something square and waist-height, and opened his eyes with a little yelp. He was standing in a bathroom. He'd really fallen into a trance listening to the voice, he marveled; he would have noticed the cold tile under his feet and the sound of gurgling water otherwise. He'd walked into a sink.

Then he _really _realized where he was, and he didn't bother to hold back a groan. This was Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

He looked around suspiciously. Maybe Myrtle was in trouble, but it was just as likely she was playing a prank. And now she would probably report him to a professor or something.

But then he realized the voice, which he could hear a lot better now and which seemed like a _hot _voice for some reason, was coming from in front of him. He turned around and peered at the sink.

He recognized the snake carving on the top of the sink a moment later.

"Oh, _no_," Harry said aloud. And he probably said it in Parseltongue, since he was looking directly at the snake.

But the voice went on calling, and there was no doubt now. It was coming from the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry backed away from the sink while he thought furiously. How could someone get down there? Wouldn't Dumbledore have told him if he hadn't destroyed Tom Riddle's diary completely? Or he would have gone around possessing someone else, and Harry thought he knew how to look for the signs of possession now. There didn't seem to be any way that someone could get into the Chamber unless they were a Parselmouth or possessed by the ghost of Voldemort.

But that made Harry wonder who was down there, helpless, just like Ginny. Maybe someone had managed to get free of the possession and call for help. Either way, Harry didn't think it was a trick. He thought he knew why he was the only one hearing the call, now. It was in Parseltongue.

His mind made up, he leaned forwards and hissed at the snake carving on the sink. "_Open_."

For long moments, the sink remained still, and Harry wondered if he had somehow lost the talent—although the voice he heard calling in the distance would suggest otherwise. Then he saw the sink fall down into the floor, and the tunnel that he had slid down once before was in front of him.

Harry bit his lip. This time, he had no phoenix to fly him out, and while he wanted to go and help the person calling him, he really didn't want to get trapped down there and have to wait until the adults came looking for him. Once again, they would scold him and say that he was taking risks.

"_Show me a way to get down_," he hissed at the sink, not sure that it would actually do anything.

The tunnel itself was what responded, flowing and humping up like a snake's back. Harry stared at the gleaming things, as slick as the scales of the basilisk. They were purple-black and looked difficult to walk on, but he also knew that he was probably luck to get this much.

"Okay," he said, not sure it was in Parseltongue, and then stepped forwards and onto the first stair.

It wasn't bad, he found, as long as he kept his wand lit with the brightest _Lumos _Charm he could muster and didn't look down. Well, it was hard to look down, anyway. The darkness was too deep next to the steps. He could mostly only see the one he was standing on, the one in front of him, and a little bit of the spiral of the tunnel.

He finally halted at what seemed to be the bottom, teetering a little. He could smell something powerful and dark, and he coughed, then froze. He hoped that there wasn't anyone down here, like another Tom Riddle, who would be warned that he was coming.

Silence, though. The darkness did nothing but wait. Harry swallowed and edged cautiously forwards, in the direction of the call.

* * *

><p>He didn't actually get as far as the Chamber of Secrets. He got around one corner, not far from the doors, and suddenly the call was so clear that Harry gasped and turned around to point his wand at the wall.<p>

He couldn't see anything at first, and then he made something else out, a tiny round carving that was maybe supposed to be a snake coiled up, although it didn't have a head or eyes. "_Open_?" Harry asked it.

The snake lifted and rippled along the stone; it was like watching a part of the wall animating itself, or a bug crawling. It was kind of creepy to watch, really. Harry moved back uneasily, clutching his wand and never taking his eyes from the small carved snake as it crept downwards to a thin line on the wall.

When the carving touched the line, it flowed into it, and suddenly the line was big and a crack. _The edge of a door!_ Harry thought, with a little flare of excitement that he felt a bit guilty about—because Hermione, if not Ron, would disapprove of him being here—and he reached out and caught the edge, lifting it open.

The grating noise it made was impossibly loud, stone dragging across stone, and made Harry flinch again. But in seconds it was still, and Harry was peering down a sloping chute that looked as if he could sort of crawl along it instead of fall, the way he had fallen down the winding one last year.

The voice was much clearer now, calling _Help, help, help, _so steadily that Harry shook his head. He really was surprised that no one had heard it, even if they only heard hissing and not the voice that was so clear to Harry's senses.

His wand still lit and lifted high, he inched his way along the chute. Unlike the tunnel that he'd been walking, this one was free of rat bones or slime or anything else that Harry tended to associate with the Chamber of Secrets. It was dusty, in fact, as though no one had been here for a long time, and Harry sneezed several times as he made his way towards the voice.

That voice that never altered. Harry was beginning to wonder who could call so steadily even if they could speak Parseltongue because of Tom Riddle. You'd think they'd still have to take a breath at some point.

The chute ended abruptly, on a broad lip that made Harry have to hop down onto the floor. He grimaced. He was still one of the shortest kids in his year, and he hated being reminded of it.

He turned around slowly, considering the bare room the chute had brought him to. It wasn't even dusty. It was simply _dry. _There was nothing here. No water. No pipes that he could see leading out. Harry shook his head, bewildered. Where were the cries coming from? They actually sounded more muffled now that he was closer to the source.

_Unless this was just a trap from Voldemort in the first place, and I was stupid to come here._

Well, Hermione would probably think he was stupid, anyway. That made Harry more perversely determined to prove her wrong. He lifted his wand until it really did fill the room with a fierce glow of concentrated light, and edged towards the far wall, where the voice still sounded relatively clear.

There was another carved snake there, this one rearing up and more recognizable, and a small projection sticking out of the wall where the mouth was. Harry was pretty sure it represented fangs. He hesitated, listening to the voice.

"_Open?_" he suggested again in Parseltongue.

This time, the wall did nothing. But the pace of the cries increased, as though whoever it was had heard someone there and realized that there might be a way to get out.

Harry said something that Aunt Petunia would have washed his mouth out with soap for, and then leaned forwards and did what seemed like the obvious thing at the time (although when he was trying to explain it later, somehow both the obviousness and why it was reasonable had gone away). He lifted a finger and gashed it against the fang.

The snake flushed red with his blood, and opened its carved eyes to look at him. Harry expected to see that the eyes were little jewels or something, but they were only blank holes in the stone. For a second, the snake's tail wavered back and forth, agitating the stone of the wall, and Harry warily stepped backwards and lifted his wand. The last thing he needed was an attack from something he had fed his blood to.

But instead of attacking him, the snake turned and slithered _into _the wall. The wall promptly collapsed, the stone tunneling, and Harry skipped back out of the way of the dust and the falling chunks of rock. They just dropped to the ground, though, instead of flying at him.

Harry thought that was the first thing that had really gone his way since he came here. Well, maybe that and the stairs that had made it so he didn't have to fall into the Chamber of Secrets.

"Hello?" he called, into the dark tunnel.

_Help! Please help!_

The word "please" galvanized him. Harry scrambled into the tunnel, brightening his _Lumos _when he needed to so he wouldn't keep stumbling along the floor. Then he rounded a corner, and there was the light he had been missing: the light of a great fire, floating above the floor in a ball that was two times bigger than Harry. Harry gaped at it, tilting his head back so he could make out the source. Was it a chandelier?

But it didn't seem to have any source. It was just fire, hovering in the air and making the room so warm that Harry already wanted to pull his robes off. But he couldn't do that until he knew there was nothing dangerous, so he looked cautiously around instead.

A short distance away from him lay what looked like several large stones at first. They were red and grey. Then one of them moved, and the _Help!_ call came from it, and Harry thought he understood.

They were eggs.

Harry stared for a second, then shook his head and crept closer. It seemed that the one who had been calling him for help was a _snake._

That was so strange that he didn't really know what to feel. He stopped in front of the egg and stood staring down at it, even when it rocked and called _Help!_ again.

What kind of snake was it? It would probably be something dangerous if Slytherin had left it down here. Harry took another glance up at the huge fire. Maybe that thing _hadn't _been here since Slytherin's time, but he sort of doubted it.

Now was when he really wished he'd had Hermione come along. She at least would have been able to tell him whether this was in _Hogwarts, A History._

_And if it isn't, genius? What would you do then?_

The egg rocked yet again. Harry knelt down in front of it and stared at it. This close, he could make out what looked like a shadow curled up inside it, dark against the translucent shell. It looked a lot like the carved snake he had found in the original tunnel that led towards the Chamber, and now he thought he knew why. That had been an illustration of a snake getting ready to hatch, although for some reason whoever made it hadn't carved the egg.

_What kind of snake? _Harry would have guessed Ashwinders, but he knew they didn't live very long, and-well, that was all he knew about them, really. He shifted his weight and did some more staring.

But all along, he knew what he was going to do. It was stupid to come this far and then be too scared to do anything else.

In the end, he reached out and laid his wand against the egg and whispered, "_Diffindo_."

The egg shimmered for a second, as though lit from the inside. Then the shell cracked with his Severing Charm, and a whole bunch of stuff came pouring out of it. Harry leaped back, his nose wrinkling. He supposed it was egg yolk, but it was even worse than the slime in the tunnel leading to the Chamber his first year. It got on his boots and on his sleeve, and it was a reddish-yellow sort of like the fire, and it _smelled. _It smelled like rotten eggs.

_That makes sense. _But it didn't make it any less disgusting.

Harry stared at the crack in the egg when he was done, aware that the calls for help in Parseltongue had stopped. There was silence for a long, long second. Harry bit his lip. He hoped he hadn't cut the side of the snake that was trying to call for help with his Severing Charm.

But then there was movement, and the snake came slithering out of the egg and slowly unfolded itself, with a long, shuddering stretch that reminded Harry of how he himself would wake up after a nap.

Harry stared at its dark green scales and caught a glimpse of its yellow eyes and immediately rolled back, yelping.

About sixteen things went through his head in one second-_that's a baby basilisk!, I thought you didn't get basilisk eggs and they just hatched under a toad, why aren't I dead right now?, what's it doing down here?, why am I still alive?_

The thoughts stormed through his head until the last one became the most important one. Harry stood up and stared at the floor, trying to watch the basilisk out of the corner of his eye.

But something else was happening. Something was sort of popping up at the corner of his mind, rippling along with his thoughts, almost _tickling _him.

Harry shook his head, and then shook his head again. He had to keep an eye on the basilisk, and he had to get out of there, and he had to figure out what was going on in his head, and he didn't know how to do all of those at once.

But then the basilisk stirred again, while keeping its head aimed carefully away from him, and Harry heard a delighted voice in his head.

_Mine? Mine!_

Harry stared with his mouth open. The basilisk turned its head slowly towards him, thick clear eyelids pressed into place over the eyes. Harry realized that he could still see a dim yellow glow from beneath those eyelids, but not the actual killing stare, and the basilisk could apparently see him, too.

_My bond, _said the basilisk. It was about five feet long. No, _he _was five feet long, Harry understood abruptly. There was a slick red line down the center of the basilisk's head that might have been a crushed plume still held flat by the yolk slime. The basilisk wriggled energetically towards Harry and twined around his legs. _Mine! You helped me. So you're mine._

Harry just stared some more, and then said helplessly, "You just hatched. How can you know anything about that? What's your name?"

_Your name's Harry! This is mine._

For a second, Harry thought he was once again talking about whatever mysterious thing he had already mentioned, but then images began to pour through his head, and he understood them in the same way that he had understood the basilisk was male. The images featured running four-legged things, and flying things, and scurrying spiders, and running humans, and a basilisk following behind them all as fast as this young one. Dignity was for older snakes. Other snakes, maybe.

_Your name is—Run? _Harry hazarded slowly. But that didn't seem right. The basilisk sent another image of himself curling around and flowing back like living water over himself, and Harry caught it better this time.

_Your name is Dash?_

The basilisk sounded as delighted as before. _That is the right human word! I like your name. And your language. I wish I could speak it. But at least you can speak to me aloud, too, in my language. And we can think to each other!_

That had to be what the tickle and the voice in Harry's head was, this thinking to each other. But Harry still shook his head and didn't understand. _I'm not the Heir of Slytherin. How can I command you?_

_No one commands anybody!_ Dash sent through the bond like a flick of his tail against Harry's back. He was twining slowly up Harry's body now, incredibly heavy, although he kept shifting his coils so that he could balance better and Harry could bear the weight better. Maybe being in Harry's head let him know how he should do that. _You're my human. I'm your basilisk. We are bonded. That's how it is._

Harry still didn't know what was going on, how he had landed here, or how there could be a basilisk egg here—or a row of them—without someone had to hatch a chicken egg beneath a toad and bring the basilisk to life. But he did understand one thing.

_I am in so much fucking trouble._

_Then just bring me to them, and I'll bite them, _Dash offered at once. _Then I can eat them. I'm hungry. Where's breakfast?_


	2. The Basilisk Rises

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Two-The Basilisk Rises_

"You could stay here, and I could go get you something to eat," Harry suggested, as he struggled to climb back through the tiny tunnel he'd used to get into the hatching room. Dash was wrapped around him, his head dangling next to Harry's on the other side of his neck and his tail sweeping around his waist.

_No. I don't want to. What would happen if someone ambushed you on the way back down and I never got my breakfast? And then I would have to wander through the tunnels in search of vengeance, and that could take a long time._

Harry paused with one hand on the wall, even though Dash was whining at him to get moving. "How do you know about ambushes and vengeance? And weren't your words a lot simpler a few minutes ago?" He was sure they had been, although he didn't know exactly how to classify the difference.

_I learn what you learn. I know what you know. You know about ambushes and vengeance, so I do, too. _There was a pause, and Harry had the distinct sense that Dash was doing something to his memories. There was a sensation like a pack of cards flipping in his head. _And Dark Lords. Why does he want to kill you so badly?_

"You pick up on everything else, and you can't pick up on that?" Harry muttered, starting to climb again. He tried to imagine the expressions on everyone's faces when he came out of the tunnel with a basilisk. It didn't look pretty in his head. He wondered if people would start calling him the Heir of Slytherin again. It would be for the best if Dash stayed down here.

_No, it wouldn't. How could I defend you if I was down here? And stupid people can't get away with saying things like that if they're insults. _Harry had the distinct impression that Dash didn't think being called something associated with snakes was an insult. _And I can't tell about the Dark Lord because it has to do with mammal things. I understand revenge. Revenge is a reptile thing. But war is a mammal thing._

Harry shook his head, and Dash nudged at his ear. Harry wondered if he would have nipped him like Hedwig did if not for those incredibly sharp and poisonous fangs in his mouth. "He wanted to kill my parents. I don't really know why. They fought him, I reckon. But he tried to curse me with the same spell he used to kill my parents, and it bounced back and hit him."

_He is the Heir of Slytherin? _Dash sounded thoughtful. Harry hoped he wasn't about to decide that he would be better off helping Voldemort.

"Yeah." Harry halted, puffing and blowing, at the entrance back into the main tunnel that ran up to the Chamber. "You're heavy. You're sure that you can't climb down and slither on your own?"

_You could talk to me in your head, and then you wouldn't need to talk aloud and waste your breath like that. _ But Dash did slide to the floor, with immense dignity and tickling Harry all the way, and begin to move down the tunnel ahead of him. _So you don't really know why he tried to kill you._

Harry shrugged a little. "I know that he's trying to kill me _now_ because he's tried and failed to kill me in the past."

Dash paused and swung his head back in Harry's direction, and Harry tensed instinctively. But the eyelids were still firmly clamped into place over Dash's eyes. The hiss he gave sounded delighted, and in was in Parseltongue, like the first calls for help he had given Harry, instead of mental. "_You resisted him? Yes, you resisted him. And he's powerful, but you still managed to fight him._"

"Of course I fought him," Harry snapped, a little irritated, brushing past Dash and taking up the lead. He was the one who had been down this tunnel before. He was the one who would know the way.

_I told you, I know what you know, at least if I can understand it. _

"Well, you were just born."

_You think that I was only alive when I broke the shell? How like a mammal._

Harry sighed and gave up that portion of the conversation. He had the feeling that that was a skill he'd have to learn. "But I fought him because he wanted to kill me. It's not because I really wanted to be a hero or anything like that."

_What is a hero? _

"Someone who fights to save other people," Harry said, and then paused, unsure. He didn't really know. It wasn't a question he had ever asked himself. He only knew that he wasn't one, that he was a normal boy, or would be if Voldemort would leave him alone. "Someone who dies to save other people." He gave Dash an image of his parents as he imagined their deaths, although the only thing he had to base that on was his mum's voice screaming when Voldemort killed her.

_Parents should fight for their young, _said Dash, sounding approving. He wriggled up beside Harry and wrapped a coil of his body around Harry's legs in what felt oddly like a hug. _So, a cat that fights for her kittens is a hero. I understand now._

Harry groaned a little. Then he decided that he shouldn't worry about it, because no one else could talk to Dash and learn his odd definition of a hero, anyway. Harry was the only one who would have to live with it. "Sort of. Anyway, I want to know more about the eggs. Did you have brothers and sisters?"

_How should I know? _Dash unwrapped from Harry's legs and slithered ahead of Harry, his shadow a long, graceful curve on the walls in the light of Harry's _Lumos. I was the first to hatch. You didn't see any other egg bits, did you? I didn't have anyone come to me and tell me what to do. I only knew that I had to break the egg, and I had to have help. Then you came along and helped me._

Harry shifted uncomfortably when Dash's voice flicked into his mind this time. It was sort of adoring. It was sort of the way that Aunt Petunia spoke to Dudley, and Harry didn't know if that was a good thing.

But he also thought it was another thing he couldn't help, so he said aloud, "But you said that you were alive before you hatched from the egg. I thought you would know-all sorts of things. About the Chamber and the eggs and how you hatched as a basilisk when you must have hatched from a chicken egg under a toad."

_I am not a chicken or a toad. _For a moment, Harry felt that licking sensation again, but this time he knew Dash was licking away layers of memories, searching for images of a chicken or a toad. _They are things I would eat._

"But that's the way basilisks hatch."

_No, it isn't. I am the proof._

Harry shook his head, oddly disappointed. It wasn't like he cared all that much about the Chamber of Secrets and snakes and basilisks and how the basilisk eggs had come to be there, anyway, he told himself. He wasn't a bloody Slytherin.

But it would still have been nice to _know _why he'd suddenly found himself saddled with a huge snake that was going to be more trouble than it was worth, especially when it grew up.

_You do not like me?_

Harry stooped down quickly and rested his hands on Dash's head and back. He knew that voice. It was the sort of voice he used to use himself when he looked through the cracks in the cupboard door and watched the Dursleys playing with Dudley or spoiling him. Why didn't they like him? It didn't make sense.

And it didn't make sense to Dash, either, with the way he felt about Harry.

"It's not that I don't like you," Harry muttered, and ducked his head further so he could rub his forehead against Dash's back. His scales were oddly soft and smooth, shiny against Harry's skin as though someone had already been rubbing them for a long time. "It's just-I don't understand how this happened. I know there aren't a lot of other Parselmouths, but I never heard of any of them being bonded to a basilisk."

_Of course not, _said Dash, and his tail wrapped slyly around Harry's ankle, in a way that Harry knew could trip him if Dash tugged. Sharing a mind with a basilisk made it rather hard for that basilisk to play tricks on him, though. _I'm special, and you're special. It makes sense that I would be the first one to choose a Parselmouth, and that I would choose the most special one._

Harry gave a restrained chuckle and stood up, guiding Dash forwards with a hand on the back of his neck. _Are you hungry? _he asked, giving in to the inevitable and speaking down the bond, in his head. He would have to do it anyway when they were around other people, unless he wanted to alarm them with Parseltongue or random blurts of information all the time.

Around other people? But yes, they would have to be. Harry didn't think Dash would agree to stay out of sight inside the Chamber of Secrets or his bedroom all the time, and given how nosy people were about him, it was only a matter of time before someone discovered Dash anyway.

_I told you that already when I asked you where breakfast was. _Dash stayed in contact with Harry's ankle and hand for a second, and then wriggled away from him, winding over the broken stone with a grace Harry admired. _And I want something living, so I can kill it with my eyes._

Harry stopped still for a second, then began to breathe. At least he thought he might know how to get that. "All right. We'll have to go outside, though." He was a little worried about the Dementors, but not about Sirius Black. Not any longer, when he had a basilisk with him.

Come to that, he might not have to worry about the Dursleys, either...

A small, vicious grin on his face, Harry followed Dash back up the steps and out of the tunnels, back towards what was going to be his normal life.

* * *

><p>Harry nudged Dash's side with his foot. Ever since they had come up into the darkness outside the castle, Dash wouldn't stop staring at the moon. He was weaving his neck back and forth, his rapt gaze pointing up. <em>Come on. We don't have that much time before someone starts wondering where I am.<em>

_But it's a light. In the sky. Like the fire in my cavern, but so much prettier. _Dash finally started crawling after Harry, but it was a good thing he was a snake and could writhe his body around things, because he still refused to look away from the moon. _Who put it there? _

Harry rolled his eyes. _You don't know who put the fire there, I don't know who put the moon there. But come on. Just make sure you're looking away from me when you open your eyes to kill something._

He jumped a second later as something wet and smooth touched the back of his leg. Then he realized it was Dash's tongue, and snorted and brushed his hand down Dash's neck.

_I would never hurt you. Not on purpose._

Harry rolled his eyes and stopped near the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid had said something last week about rabbits playing around here, and Harry was hoping that he would find some and Dash could kill them. Otherwise, he would have to take him over to the lake and hope they could catch a fish. _Do you smell anything? _

_No-wait. _Harry heard a faint, odd sound, and looked down to see Dash pulling his tongue in and out of his mouth in a rapid way that he reckoned helped him smell better. _I can smell something small and warm. That's good to eat? _

_I suppose, _Harry said. _If it smells good. I don't know what's good to eat for snakes. _Other than Muggleborns, the way that Slytherin's basilisk had done, and no matter how much Harry liked Dash, he wasn't about to set him loose on students at the school.

Even though it would have been kind of fun to set him loose on the Slytherins. Or Snape.

_I told you, I can eat whoever you want me to eat, _said Dash absently, but he had tensed, coiling up so that the first two-thirds of his body were off the ground, and Harry knew he wasn't really paying attention to the conversation. _Something small and warm is coming this way!_

Harry prudently stepped behind the basilisk. He wasn't about to get in the way of that gaze. Given how careful Dash was to keep his eyelids over his eyes, he thought the basilisk's gaze could probably still harm him, bonded Parselmouth or not.

Dash slide a short way forwards, and then abruptly his eyelids slid up; Harry could actually see that from where he was standing, like window shutters rising. A faint golden glow shone in the darkness of the night for a second.

There was a confused, small sound, and Harry saw a shadow he hadn't realized was there shift, falling over. It was a rabbit, he realized, when Dash shielded his eyes again and slithered forwards, and then wrapped the top part of his body around it.

_Well done, _said Harry, a little shakily, feeling he ought to say something.

Dash yawned in agreement. And went on yawning. As Harry stared, he completely flexed his jaw open until it hung like a broken door, and then he bent down and scooped the rabbit into his mouth, and then he swallowed. Harry could see the broken shape tumbling further and further down his throat.

It was kind of great, and kind of scary. Harry only had to think about that happening to Voldemort, and then it was kind of funny, too.

_That was good, _said Dash. _But I'm still hungry. It's a lot of energy, you know, moving around and talking to you. _And he crawled in front of Harry, aiming his gaze into the Forest.

Harry took a few cautious steps behind him, saying, _Be careful. There are things-well, creatures, like centaurs-that live in the Forest, and I don't want you killing any of them._

_What's a centaur? _Dash asked, and once again licked away a few layers of Harry's mind until he found the answer. _Oh. Well, I wouldn't want to eat one of them anyway. They're too big for me right now._

Harry swallowed. That "right now" was worrying him a bit.

* * *

><p>But eventually they did find another rabbit and some mice, and Dash wrapped himself sleepily around Harry and allowed Harry to carry him back to Hogwarts. His body felt strange, lumpy. Harry knew it was from all the animals he'd killed, but he couldn't keep from rubbing the lumps sometimes where Dash wrapped around his stomach and shoulders, until Dash shifted and mumbled a protest.<p>

_Sorry, _Harry said, and stopped. He wouldn't want someone else rubbing his stomach after a full meal, either. Especially since he so rarely got to eat a full meal with the Dursleys involved.

_Who are they? You mentioned them before._

Harry was silent. But it wasn't like he needed to speak aloud, not when Dash could crawl through his head and find out who they were. And he understood what had happened to Harry in his own way.

_They wouldn't let you eat, and they kept you in a tiny little cage. _Dash flicked his tongue out so it brushed Harry's earlobe, and Harry jumped the way he had when Dash licked the back of his leg. It would take him a while to get used to that. _They're going to die. The biggest one should feed me for a week._

Harry sighed. "I don't want you killing humans!" He spoke it aloud, in English, to make sure that Dash understood how serious he was.

_What does that have to do with anything? _Dash sounded baffled. _I would be getting revenge for you. So that's the way it needs to work._

"You can't kill humans!"

"How emphatic you are, Mr. Potter. Unfortunate that you were not equally emphatic in _avoiding danger _when you know that Black is roaming around _trying to kill you_."

Harry halted and jerked his head up. Professor Snape was stalking towards him, his robes snapping behind him like a flag. Dash stirred beside him and started to lift his head, but Harry reached down and clamped a hand over his eyes. "No killing humans, I told you!"

Snape came to a halt. Harry stared at him. He seemed to have come closer under the impression that Harry was talking to himself or something, because he was looking at Dash in a way that made it clear he hadn't noticed him before.

Normally, Harry wouldn't think a lot about what Snape did or didn't notice. But this time, he did, and even Dash shoving at his hand, whining, _All right, all right, I'll keep my eyelids down, let me go, _didn't take his attention from Snape's pale face.

"What have you found?" Snape breathed it with the least hostile tone in his voice Harry had ever heard from him. Harry assumed it would come back in a minute, though. He was just shocked. So he didn't bother being calm or diplomatic when he answered.

"A baby basilisk. I heard a voice calling from the Chamber of Secrets, and it was him."

_Tell him my name, and that we're bonded, _said Dash, and his tail did a little drumbeat on Harry's ribs. _I want everyone to know. I don't want any filthy cat or owl thinking that it can steal you from me._

"_I have an owl. You have to get along with her,_" Harry hissed at Dash in agitation. He hadn't even considered that. It seemed he kept thinking of all the things about his life that Dash was going to change _after _Dash brought them up. He had to stop doing that.

_I'll get along with something that belongs to you. But any random cat or owl had better watch out. _Dash put his head on Harry's shoulder and touched Harry's earlobe with his tongue, making him jump again. _And this one. This one had better not think he can lock you in a cage or not feed you._

"_He's never done that,_" said Harry in weary Parseltongue, keeping an eye on Snape. The man hadn't moved and just stood there staring, as though that would make Dash dissolve or turn into something else that wasn't a basilisk, and thus wasn't as much of a problem. "_He hates me, but he gives me detentions_." He shared what those were with Dash in a quick, strobing flash when Dash stirred discontentedly beside him. "_It's just, I don't know exactly why he hates me, and I've never wanted to find out._"

_You should always find out why someone hates you. It's the first step to defeating them._

Harry narrowed his eyes, because that didn't sound like a thought a young snake should have _or _one that had ever passed through his own head, but he didn't have the chance to follow it up, because Snape spoke again. "We are to proceed directly to the Headmaster's office."

_I don't like him, _said Dash. _If you won't let me kill him with my gaze, let me bite him. My poison would inflict a slower death. You wouldn't have to watch it._

_Stop being bloodthirsty, _Harry said down the bond, glad that he'd decided to practice with that, and just followed Snape. He wanted to ask Snape if Dumbledore had sent him to find Harry, but he didn't think Snape would answer. And maybe Snape had just decided that they had to go see Dumbledore because now Harry had a dangerous pet that wasn't allowed in the school.

_What am I going to do if they want to send Dash away?_

_Fight for me, _said Dash, in utter surprise. _Of course you'll fight for me. I would fight for you. And I can teach you how to be more dangerous._

Harry paused. That thought was actually kind of interesting.

"The Headmaster does not have all night, Potter."

Harry stiffened his back, looped his arm under Dash to keep his tail from dragging on the ground, and kept walking. He didn't want to let that statement go without a retort, but he also didn't want to encourage Dash to imitate his glare, and Dash was more important than Snape.

They could have a silent conversation Snape would never notice while they were walking, anyway.

* * *

><p>Severus kept an eye on Potter, the habit of years now, but his attention was at least as much on the snake as on the boy. He could see the small red plume on the snake's head standing up, letting him know that the boy was right, that this was a basilisk, if a young one, and a male at that.<p>

The portraits had woken Severus with their excited chatter about "Slytherin returned." Severus had expected to find one of the children of his House playing a prank. One of the younger ones, of course, because none of the older ones would be so stupid as to rouse Severus's wrath in the middle of the night.

But instead he had come out and found-this. A basilisk who was crowded close to the boy and seemed able to keep his eyes shut on the boy's command, at that.

Severus was not blind. While he could not understand the Parseltongue the boy hissed at the snake, he noticed the long pauses and the way the boy's attention stayed away from Severus and on the basilisk. This spoke of a bond closer than even the ones Severus had seen the Dark Lord share with some of his snakes.

As they stepped off the revolving staircase into the Headmaster's office, Severus deliberately fell back a step, so he could watch Albus's face, and the moment the twinkle disappeared from his eye.

Severus found a thin smile of his own materializing, but luckily, neither Albus nor Potter were looking at him at the moment.

Things had just grown substantially more _interesting, _it seemed.


	3. Confrontations

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Three—Confrontation in the Headmaster's Office_

Harry thought he heard Snape close the office door behind him. He didn't really care, though. His attention was on Dumbledore, and the hard way he looked at Dash, and then the way he looked up at Harry again.

He was calm, and he was grave. Harry had seen him like that before, of course, but he thought this was the most serious Dumbledore had ever been with him. "I suppose you know what you have there, Harry?" he asked gently.

The gentleness made it worse. Harry's heart was pounding, and he jumped when Dash stuck his tongue out again and glided it slowly over Harry's earlobe and down the side of his neck. _You don't need to run. I'm here._

Harry steadied himself with thinking about that, and with the hand he put on the back of Dash's head, and went on. "I know he's a basilisk, sir. He told me that himself." Harry touched Dash's face, and after an irritated snapping of his tongue, Dash let him. "He even covers his eyes so that he can't kill someone with his eyes. I suggested that. He does it. He's safe to be around."

"Safe for you to be around, perhaps," said Dumbledore, with slow and stern emphasis. "But safe for the other students in the school? Safe for people who walk past him in the street?" He shook his head. "I'm afraid you will have to give him up."

Harry said nothing, but wrapped himself around Dash in return, grasping Dash's middle coils with his arms. Dash leaned harder against Harry, and hissed softly. Harry wasn't sure if he understood every English word that someone else spoke, but he definitely understood the thoughts that were racing through Harry's head.

_If he tries to take you away from me, I'll bite him. He deserves an agonizing death._

That was another time Harry was desperately glad that there was no chance of someone eavesdropping on what Dash said to him. "I'm not just—I can't control him because I'm the Heir of Slytherin or anything like that, sir," he told Dumbledore. "Or because I'm a Parselmouth." Dumbledore had started to speak, but now he waited and eyed Harry meditatively. "He's bonded to me."

"What?" Dumbledore opened one hand as though to cup Dash's egg in it, but Harry thought that was shock, not important. He was staring at Harry, and glanced back to Snape as though Snape would somehow have the answer.

Harry looked at Snape, but his face was bland and empty. Well, good. Harry had to be the one to tell this part, anyway. "He hatched from an egg in the Chamber of Secrets. I heard his voice calling to me, and he came out of the egg when I slit the side to help him." He paused, painfully certain that Snape would pounce on him and yell at him for breaking curfew, but nothing happened except silence. So Harry went on. "And then he looked away with his eyes covered, and he started speaking into my head, and he told me what his name was, and he knew mine. And he doesn't want to go anywhere, sir."

"Slytherin," Snape murmured.

Harry wanted to ask him what he meant, but Dumbledore gave Snape a pretty sharp glance, and he shut up. "I'm sorry, Harry, but the matter of safety still remains," Dumbledore continued, turning back to Harry. "What would happen if your basilisk murdered someone accidentally? You might be very sorry for it afterwards, but it would still have happened."

Dash seemed to take a moment to translate Harry's worry from his thoughts this time, but he gave another agitated hiss. _Tell him that it won't happen unless you tell me to. I want to kill small warm things. Humans are no fun unless they hurt you. I'd have to stretch my jaw too wide to swallow them._

"He says that he'll be careful, sir," said Harry, and his hand trembled on Dash's scales. He had been upset and afraid at first when he found out he was bonded with a basilisk, but now all he could think of was the way that Dudley got all the presents when he was a kid and Harry got none. He didn't want someone to take Dash away, too.

_I'll bite them if they try._

"You cannot keep him," said Dumbledore. "Perhaps if you were out of school and not going back to live in the Muggle world every summer…but even then it would be dangerous. You will have to be separated."

"Headmaster?" Snape murmured. "Should you or I take a look and estimate the strength of this bond?"

_Take a look? How can they do that?_

_I suppose they would look into your mind and see our bond that way._ Dash had already calmed down again. He sounded interested instead of angry. _And you can stop thinking that I'll allow them to separate us. I won't. I know that you're worried about it, but I just won't, that's all._ His tail shot out and gave Harry a swift tap on the side of the head opposite from where Dash's neck was hovering._ You need to relax and trust me._

Harry wasn't much more comfortable with the notion that somebody could read his mind. Especially if Snape and Dumbledore had been doing it all along. He looked nervously back and forth between the two men, and saw Dumbledore raise a hand as though he was going to press something heavy to the desk.

"An opportune suggestion, Severus," he said, and then turned to Harry. "Will you allow me to see into your mind, Harry, and look at your bond with Dash? It may be weak. In that case, I cannot allow you to keep the basilisk. You could lose control of him and he could go on a rampage at any time."

_I wish people would learn that basilisks have more important things to do than rampage through schools,_ Dash complained._ I can already see that looking after you and punishing all the people who hurt you is going to be a full-time job._

Harry just gulped and blinked. He wasn't sure what was going on, only that it was bad, and he waited a long time before he realized that Dumbledore was waiting for permission. Well, it was probably going to happen, and better Dumbledore than Snape.

"Yes, sir. You can look." Some instinct of caution, or maybe Dash's tail thumping into the side of his head again, made Harry add, "As long as you just look at the bond and nothing else."

Dumbledore paused in drawing his wand, and gave Harry a look of deep sadness. "Of course, my boy. I would never violate your mental privacy by looking at anything else."

Harry thought he heard Snape _snort_ at that, but he couldn't be sure, and he was already nervous enough. He wondered if having his mind read would hurt. It probably wouldn't, if they'd been doing it all along and he hadn't noticed it, but then, there were things in his life that caused him unexpected pain all the time.

"What do I have to do?" he asked.

Dumbledore gave him a kinder smile at that, and Harry found himself relaxing. He wanted to trust Dumbledore. He didn't want to be some paranoid idiot or act like he was doing something Dark and wrong, because he wasn't. "Just hold still and meet my eyes. I'll cast the spell aloud, so you can hear it, and you'll know when it begins. All right?"

Harry nodded, a little more reassured. Dumbledore whispered something that sounded like, "_Legilimens,_" and Harry felt a strange sensation, as though his mind was a pool of water someone had dived into. Harry wriggled. It felt uncomfortable, but not painful, and that was better than a lot of things.

* * *

><p>Severus watched with emotions and thoughts kept strictly to himself as Dumbledore ransacked Potter's mind. Or trod through it gently and looked around in hopes that the obvious truth wasn't the truth, whatever interpretation one preferred.<p>

He knew the Headmaster, better perhaps when he acted in extreme circumstances than at other times. And he knew what Albus's keen glances and little sighs and the way he gripped his wand meant. He was hoping desperately that something was not true that he knew was perfectly true.

In this case, the boy's bond to his serpent.

Severus contained his derisive smile without effort. He had smiled more often like that inwardly than outwardly.

No, this was a bond that had nothing to do with Parseltongue—and Albus had once hinted to Severus that he knew the boy's Parseltongue came from the Dark Lord and not from some throwback to a Potter who could speak it—or with the snake having possessed Potter. This was a true bond, and while not all the stories of Slytherin spoke of it in those terms, Severus had heard the ones that did. Slytherin had been _bonded_ to snakes, not merely commanded them.

There were no tales that spoke of his being bonded to a basilisk, true, although Severus was starting to wonder if he should ask some of the chatty portraits about the possible truths there. But that could be attributed to no one having known that Slytherin's monster _was_ a basilisk. If more information had survived, this might not have come as such a surprise.

Such a _nasty_ surprise, Severus was certain, based on the Headmaster's reaction. And it was one that could not be turned aside, not if it was a true bond. The serpent would not leave Potter, and from the way Potter was holding the basilisk protectively close to him, he would also go to war to protect it.

Severus owed Albus a good deal. He was the one who had extended his protection over Severus after the war and spared him Azkaban. He was the one who had given Severus a chance to redeem himself. He was the one who had listened and believed when Severus told him that he wanted to repudiate his Death Eater past, and not questioned his motives too deeply.

On the other hand, Severus had not forgotten Albus's favoritism of the Marauders when he was a student. He had not forgiven Albus for hiring Remus Lupin, of all werewolves, for the position that should have been Severus's. And there were other suspicions, not certainties, buried deep, that Severus did not allow himself to think of on a day-to-day basis, but which were there all the same.

Those things together made it a positive pleasure, on several levels, for Severus to see Albus's world shaken in a way that had nothing to do with Severus's own actions.

And if he could take some small, unnoticed action that would further those ripples, those tremors, he would take it without hesitation.

* * *

><p>The Headmaster pulled back at last, with a shake of his head. Harry leaned his head against Dash's, and sighed. It felt nice to be alone in his mind again.<p>

_You aren't alone in your mind. I'm here._

_I know, but you're different_, Harry thought to him, and he thought Dash was delighted at that, in the few seconds he had to think about it before Dumbledore softly cleared his throat.

"You have a true bond to your snake, Harry." Dumbledore shook his head again, and stepped back behind his desk. He had a small silver, spinning instrument on it which he started to make spin faster with a tap of his finger. Harry watched it cautiously, but since it didn't appear to be affecting Dash, he looked back at Dumbledore's face. "It will be very hard to get rid of him or separate you."

"That's what I was saying, sir," said Harry. Snape was probably rolling his eyes right now at Harry's disrespect for the Headmaster. Well, all the more reason not to look at Snape. "That I don't want to separate from him."

"You understand my concerns, Harry?" Dumbledore asked it like it was the most important question he'd ever asked.

Harry looked at him slowly. "I do, sir," he said. "But I don't know if you understand that I can ask Dash not to bite people or kill him, and he won't. That's a choice, sir," he added, because he knew that Dumbledore believed that. "And it's our choices that makes us who we really are. Right?"

Dumbledore leaned slowly back in his chair. "But I wondered if you were recalling another choice and making it anew, differently this time," he said.

Harry didn't understand what he meant until Dumbledore caught his eye and led his gaze to the Sorting Hat, high on its shelf. Harry immediately shook his head. "No, sir. Just because I have a basilisk doesn't mean I want to be in Slytherin."

There was a little hiss, like a kettle. Harry was about to tell Dash off for scaring Dumbledore with his hissing, but a second later he realized it wasn't Dash. It was Snape making that noise behind him. Harry turned around and stared.

"What do you mean by that?" Snape's eyes were bulging a little, and he looked pale and sick to his stomach. Harry was kind of sorry that he didn't even know what he had done to make him look that way. At least if he was going to upset Snape, it should be on purpose.

"The Hat first considered Harry for your House, Severus," said Dumbledore, and he sounded more cheerful. Harry silently wondered if Dumbledore liked to upset Snape, too.

_I like upsetting everyone,_ Dash contributed, not that helpfully. Harry rubbed his head to keep him quiet, and looked back and forth again between Snape and Dumbledore, entertained in spite of himself.

"But Harry chose Gryffindor, and you're right, Harry, it is our choices…" said Dumbledore, letting the sentence trail off as he looked at the way Harry was petting Dash. He sighed, and he sounded sad and old to Harry. "Perhaps if you spend some time with your snake, you will realize that you need to reconsider? At least before you go back to stay with your relatives again?"

Harry was extra sure that he would never consider facing the Dursleys without Dash when he could have his protection, but he knew that sometimes you had to lie to adults for their own good. "I'll consider it, sir."

"Excellent!" said Dumbledore, and rubbed his hands together. "Then the only thing that remains is for us to enact a few rudimentary protections for the safety of your fellow schoolmates." He waved his wand and said something quiet, and a few of the silver instruments flew up from the shelves and orbited Harry's head.

_I don't like them,_ said Dash, turning his head back and forth, and giving Harry a subdued glimpse of the yellow light of his eyes under his eyelids again. _Make them go away._

Harry had his wand in his hand, ready to do that if he had to, but he did ask, "Sir? What are they supposed to do?"

"I'm glad you asked that, my boy," Dumbledore said, and beamed as if he really was. "They'll act as mirrors if your Dash opens his eyes, and allow his gaze to bounce back harmlessly. They're gifted with enough intelligence to know when they're needed, and they'll dart in between your friend and the other students." He reached into his drawer and drew out a big red vial Harry had never seen before. "And this will dilute his poison enough that it should be painful but harmless to anyone he bites. It wouldn't work with a bigger basilisk, but fortunately, this is one of the uses of dragon's blood."

Harry looked at Dash, who coiled closer to him and whined, I_'m not taking that. What happens if it dilutes my poison forever? What if I can't kill the rabbits I need to eat? _He touched his tongue to Harry's neck again_. What if I can't bite someone to defend you?_

"He's worried about not being able to defend me if he takes that, sir," said Harry, facing Dumbledore again and feeling a brief moment of incredulity that he was translating a basilisk's words for the Headmaster.

_This is the way life is,_ said Dash, and his tail moved slowly around Harry's waist, shifting as if he wanted to learn its shape._ Surprises, and food._

"I am afraid I must insist," said Dumbledore.

Harry considered him one more time, and then reached out and took the vial. He held it up to Dash's mouth. "Can you take this for me?" he asked aloud in Parseltongue, and he thought Snape probably jumped, although Dumbledore just continued to watch him calmly. "Please?"

Dash finally opened his jaws, ungraciously, and hissed at Dumbledore. Harry carefully poured the potion down his throat. Dash worked his jaw back and forth for a moment, making his fangs flash, and then said,_ It doesn't taste too bad. More like blood than I expected._

Harry faced Dumbledore. "Can I go now, sir?" He wanted to get some sleep, and preferably before everyone else woke up and he would have to explain Dash to them.

"Just a moment, Harry." Dumbledore leaned forwards with his hands on the desk and surveyed him gravely once more. "Do you think this is likely to happen again?"

"Bonding with a basilisk, sir?" Harry shook his head vigorously. "I really hope not."

_It won't_, said Dash firmly into his head. _You're mine, and I refuse to let another basilisk anywhere near you_.

Harry smiled and reached up to touch the back of Dash's neck. He noticed Dumbledore observing him gravely, and bristled a little. "You've made all the preparations you need to to keep other people safe, sir. Are you going to trust me or not?"

"That's not what I meant, Harry," said Dumbledore, and then said, "I meant, do you think that you'll make another decision that's as reckless as this, and disregards other people's safety to such a persistent extent?"

Harry paused. He was waiting for something, he thought, but he wasn't sure what.

Then, when he thought about it, he knew. He was waiting for his stomach to drop with guilt and the horrible feeling of disappointing Dumbledore to creep over him. Dumbledore was the first adult he'd ever really wanted to impress. It was horrible to think he was doing something that upset him.

But he didn't have that feeling. He eyed Dash suspiciously, sideways, and Dash promptly curled his tail up and tapped him in the side of the neck. I can tell you things and pick up on your thoughts. I can't suppress your emotions.

"I don't know, sir," Harry said, and turned back to Dumbledore. "I don't want to put people in danger, but I couldn't leave someone who was calling me for help alone. Don't you see that?" he added, because he thought if anyone knew why he would have to get out of bed in the middle of the night to save someone, it would be Dumbledore. "If I can do something to save them, then I have to."

Dumbledore nodded, and the twinkle was back in his eyes. "I do understand, m'boy. Good night to you."

Harry glanced instinctively at Snape, but he was staring at Dumbledore and didn't seem inclined to escort Harry back to Gryffindor "to make sure he went to bed," the way Harry had been certain he would do. He shrugged, said, "Good night, sir," and walked out, adjusting Dash around his waist.

_I'm starting to get sleepy from all the food I ate_, said Dash, and his neck writhed around Harry's and then he rested his chin on Harry's nape, his heavy satisfaction leaning against Harry's mind like a purring cat. _Can we wait until tomorrow to meet your roommates?_

_I think we have to,_ said Harry, and stroked his scales and the little plume that stood up on the top of his head, and made his way to Gryffindor Tower.

Each step was heavier than it had ever been, since before he hadn't been carrying a giant snake. But each step was also more joyful. He knew there would be trouble, and the mirrors orbiting him made that plain, but there was another thing he knew.

He wasn't going to be alone, ever again.

* * *

><p>"I know what you're going to say, Severus, and you can save your breath. I knew all about where the Sorting Hat wanted to place Harry, and he and I have already discussed it."<p>

Severus shook his head. There was a mixture of thoughts and emotions in his brain and chest that was making it very difficult for him to choose what to say. But at least the one Albus voiced hadn't been in his top five.

"That is not the issue," he finally chose. "I wish to know why you were so intent on depriving the boy of his snake, and then you relented and let him keep it."

"Depriving him?" Albus chuckled. "You may become a fan of Harry Potter yet, Severus, if you keep speaking like that."

Severus forced himself to ignore the words that made him want to snap. He had more control of himself than that, and this was important. "What made you change your mind?"

"Because I looked and saw the true bond, as you rightly assumed that I would." Albus still looked too amused. "And because I saw that Harry did want to protect Dash and himself, and that…certain things are not as I had thought." Albus's smile vanished this time. "Harry stands at a crossroads, and he could lose himself, Severus. I must admit that I am concerned about him."

Severus nodded and said a few empty platitudes, mixed in with the sneers that Albus would expect. At the very least, when Albus waved farewell to him for the night, Severus thought he suspected nothing.

But Severus's mind was racing, and he had come up with a few truths that he thought Albus would find unpalatable, at the very least. Or perhaps he would find it unpalatable that Severus was contemplating them.

Slytherin in fact had been a Parselmouth. Slytherin, at least in legend, had been bonded to several snakes. And while Severus would never be so rash as to believe in the reincarnation of his House's founder in the form of a rather foolish Gryffindor, he dhave to wonder about Albus's contention that Potter had Parseltongue only from the Dark Lord.

Did he have his Slytherin nature and bond to a basilisk from the Dark Lord, too? Or was it more likely, as Severus was coming to believe, that the Dark Lord had nothing to do with it?

Because if so, that pointed to his misinterpretation of a few things Potter had done, and a dimension that he had been ignorant of to others.

He did want to think about this, but he intended to betray neither his curiosity nor his conclusions to Albus any time soon.

Based on Albus's reaction to the mere thought of Harry Potter acting Slytherin, he imagined it as the worst fate that could befall the boy. And Severus did not think so.


	4. At the Turn of the Tide

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Four—At the Turn of the Tide_

"Mate, don't move."

Ron's voice was soft and hoarse. Harry blinked his eyes open, and blinked again when he saw Ron's wand pointed straight at him. It took him a long, long second to realize why it was probably happening.

Then he rolled his eyes and deliberately moved an arm so he was stroking his hand along Dash's shimmering scales. "Ron, it's okay."

Ron twitched, and said in a voice so quiet that Harry was surprised his stroking Dash didn't cover it up, "Mate, you've got a bloody great snake on you. It's going to kill you and eat you, I think. Unless I can curse it first." He licked his lips. "I've never tried the Blasting Curse before, but I will, okay? Just hold still."

"You are _not _using the Blasting Curse on me," Harry said, and grabbed Dash's head just in time as he started to whip towards Ron with his mouth open. "And you're not cursing Dash. He's my friend."

Ron stared at him. "Are you _mental_?"

_Perhaps you are, for having such friends. _Dash moved so that more of his body emerged from under the covers, making Ron gasp. Harry doubted that Ron had realized how big Dash was until then. _Let me bite him._

_You know that that potion Dumbledore gave you will just dilute the venom, anyway, _Harry pointed out, and tugged a little at the plume on top of Dash's head.

From Dash's agitated hiss, he _really _didn't like that. Before Harry had a chance to stop him, he said, _That is why I should bite him, _and lashed towards Ron across the bed like an unfolding ball of string.

Harry snatched his tail just in time to hold him back. Ron had leaped back, too, and was yelling so loudly that Harry heard the others stirring and muttering and waking up.

_Just the way I wanted them to meet Dash, _Harry thought in disgust, and glared at Ron, shaking his head. "He's the basilisk I'm _bonded _to," he said. "I know that you think it's a good idea to curse him, but it's really, really not."

By now, the others were up, and they focused on one word each.

"_Basilisk_," said Neville, and dived back into his bed, tugging the curtains shut behind him. Harry thought he heard the whisper of a terrified spell that was probably meant to continue holding them shut, too.

"Bonded?" Dean was staring around as if this was one of those strange wizarding world things and he wanted to know where Hermione was when he needed her.

"No, it's a really good idea," said Seamus, and started to lift his wand so that it was level with Ron's—or level with where Ron's would have been, Harry thought, if he could have got his hand to stop shaking.

"Stop it!" said Harry. He put a lot of force into the word, but didn't yell. He thought he would get their attention better if he didn't yell. And it made Dash turn around and consider him, too, then ripple back across the bed and wrap around his waist, levering most of his weight onto Harry's shoulder.

_That is the way, _he said, and rested his chin on top of Harry's head. _I knew you had it in you to do things like that._

Harry didn't have the chance to ask what he meant, because Ron was demanding, "Where the hell did you get that thing, mate?"

_I am not a thing, _said Dash haughtily. _That stick of wood in his hand is a thing. How would he like it if I broke that stick of wood? _

Harry had the feeling that he was going to be thanking his lucky stars a lot that no one else could overhear what Dash said to him down the privacy of the bond. "I heard him calling me in the night," he said, and shifted Dash so that he was more comfortably settled around Harry. "He was in the Chamber of Secrets."

Dean shook his head with a tragic expression on his face. "I can't believe you went down there, Harry. It's no place for a Gryffindor."

"Why was he there?" Seamus was holding his fire for now, but he kept looking back and forth nervously between Dash and Harry. At least he seemed to have realized that Dash was doing _something _to dim his gaze, because he wasn't yelling about falling over dead. "I thought you killed the basilisk in the Chamber!"

"These were eggs." Harry said that bit reluctantly, because he thought he could predict what they would say next.

Sure enough.

"Let's smash them!" said Seamus. "And maybe we can put him back in the egg and smash him too, or something. Does Hagrid have new roosters? We can bring one in here and have it crow, and bang, there's one dead basilisk and one free Harry!"

Harry felt the way he had that time Dudley had caught him at school and told Piers to hold a match to his feet. He shot out of the bed so fast it was like he had wings, and rushed at Seamus. Seamus barely had time for a startled yelp before he was staggering backwards, one hand on his cheek, staring at Harry like he was a stranger.

Harry didn't even know why he had used his hands instead of his wand. He should have. He was that angry.

_You're so angry that you couldn't think of a spell that would hurt him enough, _said Dash. He sounded calm, even though he'd been left sprawled across Harry's bed by the force of Harry's leap. He crawled towards him now and entwined himself around Harry's legs, lifting his head so that it was nudging at Harry's dangling hand. _You don't know enough spells yet. We'll fix that soon._

Harry shut his eyes and turned away, but he spoke in a low, vicious voice that he hoped they could all understand. Maybe he'd made a mistake by not yelling earlier after all. "I never want to hear you say that again. Dash is _mine_."

_And I'm yours, _said Dash. _Just in case anyone gets it into their head that they can have you._

Harry was glad that he didn't have to translate that. It would come out the wrong way in English, the way it wouldn't in mental-speak or even Parseltongue. Now that he thought about it, with Dash's perspective pulsing in the back of his head, he knew that Parseltongue possessiveness could be about a nest and include a lot of defensiveness.

"Harry," said Seamus. "You know what those things can do. You fought one _last year_."

"That one belonged to Slytherin," said Harry, his head still turned away. He'd torn himself away from Dudley and Piers when they'd tried to use the match. He'd run and run and run, and felt as if he had the strength and energy to run to the end of the world to get away from them. He could have spent a lot more time punching Seamus and hurting him, too. He was only glad that he hadn't needed to. "It was going around petrifying people. There's no way I could have talked to it and made it stop hurting people, because it belonged to Slytherin. But Dash is mine. He won't hurt anyone."

_You have to start adding "and I'm his" to the end of your statements, _said Dash resentfully. _And remember that I'm not hurting people _right now. _It's different when you tell me to._

Harry hunched his shoulders a little. He knew what Dash was suggesting, but he didn't want Dash to bite Seamus. He didn't want Seamus to hurt Dash, either. He was just—he just wanted to have the world be like it was before, but better, because Dash was with him.

_Of course it will be. I make everything better._

"What are those, Harry?"

Neville was peering out of his curtains again, maybe because he knew now that no one was falling dead from Dash's gaze or poison. Harry dully followed Neville's pointing finger, and blinked. The silver objects that Dumbledore had enchanted were whizzing around his bed, dancing around each other as they circled towards Dash. Dash watched them tolerantly.

"Dumbledore put them there as mirrors in case Dash tried to look at someone," Harry mumbled. "He gave him a potion that diluted his venom, too."

Neville took a breath so deep that his face puffed up with the effort. "Then—does that mean that he can't hurt people?"

Harry shrugged. "It would still hurt if he bit you." He reached down and picked up Dash, settling him around his shoulders and waist, ignoring how heavy Dash was. "But it wouldn't kill you."

"Th-then I think we ought to accept Dash," said Neville, and he glanced around as though he wanted to look the others in the eye, although he looked away again when Dean and Ron stared at him. "We know Harry isn't evil. He just has a b-basilisk."

"But people are going to say that you're the Heir of Slytherin again, mate," Ron tried, with the sound of desperation in his voice.

"I don't care," Harry said stubbornly. "Dash matters more."

_You matter more. That's also something you should start thinking._

Harry rolled his eyes a little and would have retorted, but Ron said, "What if other people try to hurt him?"

"Then he can defend himself," Harry said, and looked Ron dead in the eye. "Unless you don't think he can because Dumbledore tried to restrain him a little."

"No," said Ron, and gave Dash another sidelong look. "But you have to admit this is pretty bloody strange, mate. I don't know what Hermione's going to say when she finds out."

Dean and Seamus were going into the bathroom, giving Harry and Dash dark looks all the while. Neville scuttled around Harry with a handful of towels and a timid smile, but stopped when Harry smiled at him and said, "Thanks. I think I owe you one."

"I know that y-you aren't evil," said Neville, and nodded at him. "And you wouldn't let him bite me."

Harry had to admit that was true. Even if Dash needed to defend himself, it wouldn't be from Neville. "Thanks anyway," he said. He thought that Neville's acceptance was one reason Seamus and Dean had left instead of trying to press the issue.

Neville nodded again and ran off. Ron shook his head, long and slow. "You should go ahead and get ready for breakfast, mate. It's probably going to take forever to get out of the common room once Hermione sees _that_."

"Can you please stop talking about him like he's a thing?" Harry snapped, and put a hand on the back of Dash's neck when he tried to raise his head. "He doesn't like it, and neither do I, and it's hard listening to all the comments he can make to me every time you do it."

Ron gaped at him for a second. "I didn't hear him hissing. How is he talking to you?"

"In my mind," Harry said. "I told you we were bonded. This is what it means. He can talk to me, and no one else can hear, but he understands what I hear, too. So he knows when someone is saying something uncomplimentary things about him in English."

He expected Ron to either question his sanity or break and run, but instead, Ron's face lit up like sunrise. "_Brilliant. _Do you think he could tell you all the answers during a Potions exam? And could you get me into the bond so I could hear?"

_I will wither away of boredom if I have to listen to his thoughts, _Dash announced, curling himself on Harry's shoulder with solemn dignity, and flowing around his neck.

_It's impossible anyway, _Harry reassured him. At least, he didn't know any way to let Ron into the bond, and he didn't think he would have wanted to even if he did know, whether Ron was his best friend or not. Dash was just _his_. He didn't want someone to come in and share.

_You have someone who can share everything, now, _said Dash. And Harry hugged the warmth that produced to himself while he smiled and told Ron that Dash didn't care about Potions exams and would probably spend all the time considering the Potions ingredients for things he could eat anyway.

* * *

><p>"Harry!"<p>

Hermione had come bounding across the room to hug him and had been saying something about Lupin, but she stopped in her tracks when she saw Dash. Harry petted Dash's smooth scales on the back of his head and gave Hermione a sheepish smile.

"Where did you get a basilisk?" asked Hermione, and then began to shake a little. Harry remembered abruptly that she was one of the people who had been petrified and put in the hospital wing. "That's a _basilisk. _Where did you get it? What happened?"

_One of your friends cares about exams, and one is repetitive, _said Dash. _I knew that. But they seem to have mixed themselves up with each other._

Harry turned a snort into a cough, and gave Hermione a quick outline of the story, the cry for help he'd heard, and the Chamber of Secrets. By the time he did, Hermione had recovered some of her calm and asked something no one else had been brave enough to do. "Can I pet him?"

_Why not? _Dash turned his head slowly back and forth. _I suppose I should learn all about this world that I'm living in, and your hands and clothes and bedsheets and the animals I eat are not enough textures. _

Harry rolled his eyes a little, and nodded. Hermione came up close to him, ignoring the way that Ron muttered and held back, and stroked the warm scales on Dash's body where it wound around Harry's waist. "He's so _soft_," she whispered.

_Tell her to pet me when I am full of the bodies of animals, _said Dash, and then flicked his tongue out and towards the staircases that led up to the girls' rooms. _What is up there? It smells good_.

_You are _not _eating Hermione's Kneazle, _Harry told him sternly, and smiled again at Hermione. "He is, kind of. And he says that you're nice."

_I do not. _

_Well, what are you going to do? Stare at me?_

Harry thought Dash would have responded to that, but he always wanted Harry's full attention when he did, and Hermione was talking and distracting Harry. "You know that everyone is going to stare at you and make fun of you, Harry?" she asked gravely, as if it was a fate worse than death.

Harry held himself back from snapping. He hadn't ever told his friends many details about Dudley and other people bullying him in primary school, and he knew that Hermione had been outcast and bullied herself. So she probably couldn't think of many worse fates that didn't involve death. "I know. But I have Dash now. I can ignore them."

_And I can tell you many nasty things about them. Even if you _are _going to lie and say that I'm complimenting them._

Harry smiled. That was another side-effect to the bond that he didn't mind.

"He's bonded? He talks to you in your head? Does it feel like someone talking to you through a television, or can you feel it right in your head? Do you think that I could bond with a basilisk and do that?'

_Yes, same old Hermione, _Harry thought with a shake of his head, but it was a fond shake, and he did his best to answer Hermione's questions as they walked down to breakfast.

* * *

><p>Draco looked up only when people began shrieking. He was trying not to pay Potter too much attention until he came up with some new taunts about Sirius Black. Besides, his arm was aching again where that <em>awful <em>beast had mauled him, and he was trying to convince Blaise, who didn't believe him, to pass the marmalade to Vince, who was sitting between Draco and Blaise and would put the marmalade on Draco's toast if Blaise would only pass it.

But shrieks were something new.

And so was the _enormous bloody snake _around Potter's waist. And the shiny silver objects that circled around him.

Barely breathing, Draco watched as even some of the Slytherins leaped to their feet and shouted, and the Professors frowned from the High Table. _They _didn't look so surprised, Draco thought. Someone must already have told _them_.

A thought of complaining to his father if he knew about it and hadn't told Draco flowed through his head, but then it flowed away again as he concentrated on Potter and trying to identify what kind of snake he had. Draco knew that most snakes didn't grow that big, which limited the number of candidates. It also meant Potter had probably raised it for a while in secret before bringing it into the school, and Draco wondered, mildly impressed, where he had got the time and effort to do it.

And why couldn't _he _have a snake, if Potter had one?

Then Potter touched the snake's head and leaned down as if as he was speaking to it, and the snake reared up. Draco leaned along the side. He would see the hood flaring now, if it was a cobra and had a hood.

But it didn't.

It had a plume, instead, and something like dread and wonder mingled slammed into Draco's heart and made him feel the way he did when he was in the middle of a Quidditch game, when Potter hadn't spotted the Snitch yet and Draco thought he still had a chance.

_He has a basilisk. _

The words didn't even leave room for any other thoughts to come after them, for a long moment. Draco just sat there and felt and felt, and Potter moved over and sat down in the middle of the Gryffindor table as though everything was normal, as though he carried in a basilisk on his arm—and around his neck—and around his waist—to breakfast every day.

The seats near him emptied fast, except for the inevitable Granger and Weasley and, to Draco's surprise, Longbottom. Well, Longbottom was probably too dim to realize what the thing was, and Weasley too invested in the fame and fortune he hoped to pick up from associating with Potter, and Granger too interested in studying the basilisk. She was asking Potter incessant questions even as he sat, Draco saw.

"Headmaster!"

It was Zacharias Smith, someone Draco had never liked. His family drifted back and forth between being blood traitors and being nice and respectable, and Draco thought it was wherever the political winds took them at the moment. His father said they had no _conviction_.

"Why is a student allowed to bring a dangerous beast into this school?" Smith stood and pointed a finger at Potter as if he imagined that he was an avenging Fury or something. "We know that he is a Parselmouth, but we did not think he was _evil!_"

"Really?" That was Potter's voice, and Draco had never heard him sound so flat and unimpressed. _Well, Smith just doesn't have my talent for riling him up, _Draco congratulated himself. "You thought I was evil last year."

Smith stared at him for a second, and then swiveled back to Dumbledore. "Well, Headmaster?"

There was a loud muttering of agreement, and some more shouting. Dumbledore rose to his feet and studied them all with that mild stare until they fell silent again. Draco nodded a little. His father had been right. Dumbledore had some tricks that were worth copying, even though _he _was stupid and the worst of blood traitors.

"I have examined the bond that Mr. Potter has with his snake," Dumbledore began. "I have looked into his mind myself, using Legilimency, with Mr. Potter's permission.'

Draco stared. He was trying to understand what was most remarkable about Dumbledore's statement: the admission he was a Legilimens, which was something his father suspected but Dumbledore would never confirm in public, or the idea that Potter was _bonded _with the basilisk.

Of course Parselmouths could command snakes. That was in all the lore Draco had ever heard about them, and he accepted it without thought. It was one reason he had always envied them and hissed at everything snake-shaped in the Manor for six months before he had to accept that he wasn't one.

But a _bond_? Draco was only aware of bonds from fairy stories, from stories of people riding on dragons they'd impossibly tamed and sea serpents they'd raised from the egg. Bonded animals could speak to people in their minds and were always loyal to them.

For a second, Draco had to close his eyes. Not only was Potter a Parselmouth, with the gift that Draco would have given anything to possess, but he also had a powerful and dangerous creature who would follow him around and attack anyone he commanded it to.

It wasn't _fair_.

Lost in glaring at Potter, Draco barely listened to the statements that Dumbledore made, about the mirrors that orbited Potter being able to turn the snake's gaze back on itself and the potion that he'd fed the snake to dilute its venom. And he only snorted with amused contempt when Dumbledore also announced about the snake's name being _Dash_. Of course Potter would name the most dangerous snake in the world something so _common_.

Potter seemed to be ignoring Dumbledore, too, and certainly ignoring Draco, and the way that the other Houses stared at him, and even the reassurance that slowly spread across the room in the wake of Dumbledore's statements. He petted his snake on the head, and listened to it with his head cocked, and a few times hissed aloud and offered it bacon. It refused everything he tried to give it.

_Basilisks prefer _live _prey, _Draco thought. He could have told Potter that.

Potter finally looked up and caught Draco's eye. He gave him, not the glare that Draco thought he would receive, but a nasty grin.

For a moment, Draco thought that Potter had somehow decided that Draco would like a basilisk, too, and was taunting him. But then Draco remembered. He'd never told anyone about wanting a basilisk. He was afraid it would seem too childish.

_Why is he grinning like that? _

The answer was obvious as soon as Draco thought about it, especially when he saw Potter glance at his bandaged arm.

_He knows he could have the basilisk attack me if I really tried to hurt him._

And _that _intrigued Draco. Not enough to make him forget his resentment and jealousy, but, well, he'd had to ignore other emotions down the years. Swallow his boredom and make nice with Pansy, for example, during the brief time when the Parkinsons had been politically influential. Since he'd been getting older, his father had been explaining why he asked Draco to do things like that more and more.

He knew what his father would say now.

_Get close to Potter. You have to. He's going to be powerful. He already is, if he can force Dumbledore to make compromises like this._

Because Draco had noticed something else: Dumbledore really only seemed to smile for the other students' benefit. When he sat down in his place and studied Potter, his eyes were as hard as rubies.

So. He had a task, an important one. One that he could write to his father and report he'd thought of himself, and already had well in hand.

And maybe, just maybe…

_Maybe Potter can get me a basilisk too._


	5. First Potions Class

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Five—First Potions Class_

"You realize that everyone is staring at you?"

Harry shrugged and settled into his seat in Potions, then sat up and readjusted again. Dash was complaining that Harry had sat on his tail.

_Well, don't put your tail on my arse, and it'll be even, _Harry told him, which made Dash hiss and tuck his head under Harry's robe collar. Harry had already noticed that he did that when he was sulky.

_I am not sulky. Not ever sulky._

_Only someone sulky talks like that, _Harry retorted, and Dash clamped his jaws shut and laid his head along the back of Harry's neck. Harry sighed and stroked Dash's throat. He was still getting used to having a snake, and someone who could talk back to him and seemed to want to protect him at that.

_Do you have such a lack of people who want to protect you? _Dash let his head dangle down the opposite side of Harry's neck while Harry got his cauldron and books out. Harry paused to move him a little yet again. The scrape of scales against his earlobe was a tickling distraction.

_I don't think that's it, _said Harry. He could think of Dumbledore and the Weasleys and Hermione and McGonagall off the top of his head.

_But you don't think about your Muggles when you do that. _Dash flexed a little, eagerly, around Harry's ears and the crown of his head. _I shall have to think about this some more and see what I can do._

Any dread that Harry had about Dash's suggestion vanished when Snape swept into the room and up to the front. Then Harry had to worry about the dread he always had when Snape was around. Granted, Snape had been decent about Dash last night, but Harry thought that was because it was a snake and he was surprised. He was upset again about fifteen minutes later, after all.

"One would think that no one had ever seen a snake before." Snape made the remark to the air above his students' heads.

Immediately, some people snapped around so that they were facing forwards. Harry bit his lip desperately, and managed to hold onto his laughter. Laughing _would _get him in detention. Only Malfoy could get away with that in Potions, and according to Snape, that was because Malfoy was a Potions genius.

But he was secretly a little grateful that Snape was helping him, or at least making people stop staring at him. Dash was worth any amount of stares, but Harry thought it would get to him in a while, the way it had last year.

_They seem to distrust snakes and Parseltongue and all sorts of things that are reptilian. Why is that?_

Harry sent back a strong image of Voldemort as he had seen him on the back of Quirrell's head, but he didn't dare have a silent conversation with Dash, because Snape was glaring straight at him. "And _you_, Mr. Potter, should not allow the snake to distract you from your brewing, or cause any mishaps with ingredients."

It was a mild reprimand, at least when compared to some of the ones Snape tended to give him. Harry just nodded and said, "Yes, sir."

Snape raised his eyebrows and turned, waving his wand so fast that the words seemed to spring out of it and cover the board. Harry used his left hand to brush Dash's tail out of the way and began to write them down.

"The instructions will vanish in ten minutes," Snape said smoothly, and Harry thought he saw a smile on his face as the banging of cauldrons turned into the frantic scribbling of quotes.

Harry began to write faster, and ignored the way that he could feel Ron shaking with suppressed indignation next to him. They could work together, the way they usually did, and as long as one of them had a good copy of the notes, then they could brew the potion.

_Or you could ask me, _Dash offered. _I could remember the notes, and then you could reach out and touch my memories the way I'm touching yours, and you would see the notes right in front of your eyes._

Harry had been about to ask how Dash could read any English writing—he'd thought Dash could only understand English because Harry did, and that meant he wouldn't be able to read something Harry wasn't reading with him—but now he paused. That was actually a good idea.

But Snape's eyes were on him, and Harry went back to writing, telling Dash, _I'll still need to write it down or else he'll think you're distracting me. But I'll let you know if I can't read something I'm writing and you can show me the notes._

Dash gave a soft, pleased hiss, and several of the Gryffindor girls who weren't Hermione flinched. Hermione's shoulders tightened. Harry could almost hear her saying, "_Honestly_," but of course she wasn't about to speak up in the middle of Potions class.

But there was silence only until the mad scribbling of notes had finished—Harry thought Snape looked mildly disappointed that most of his students finished writing the whole recipe down—and then people started to get up and fetch the ingredients. Harry stood up, and Lavender Brown moved so she was blocking his way out of the aisle. Harry folded his arms and made sure his look was unimpressed.

"Harry, you have to think about this," Lavender whispered, and it sounded as if she were pleading. "You haven't thought about it, or you never would have brought a snake to class. Snakes are _dangerous. _And they're the symbol of Slytherin, and that means a Gryffindor shouldn't have one—"

"Miss Brown. I expected to see that you had begun the potion already. You've wasted five minutes wringing your wrist instead of writing it down already."

Harry didn't think his mouth fell open when Snape loomed behind Lavender and told her that, but only because Dash's head was tucked nicely beneath his jaw and it couldn't move. What the hell was going on? Was Snape _defending _him?

_You seem horrified that he would, _said Dash in the back of his head, darting out his tongue so that it scraped Harry's neck this time. Harry didn't jump, but only because Snape was there, and Snape had already told him off for letting Dash distract him. _You could use more people to help and defend you. _

_Yeah, but only if they actually mean it, not if they're just doing it to beat up on someone else and then turn around and hurt me again later, _Harry thought bitterly, remembering some of his primary school teachers. They had defended him against Dudley, but that was only because they didn't like Dudley. A few days later they'd forgotten all about him.

_I must find out where your Muggles live._

Lavender had scurried away by now, and Snape turned sharp eyes on Harry and shook his head. "You are to go to the storage cupboard, Mr. Potter, not stand here acting as though you have never seen a cauldron before," he said, and Harry bowed his head and scurried away, wringing his own wrist as if it hurt, too. It was better than doing something that would give away what he was really considering.

Which was that Snape wasn't all that bad, sometimes, but Harry still couldn't afford to trust him because it was "sometimes."

* * *

><p>Draco sighed and shook his head, stepping back from his table as Vince came up with the wrong ingredients. "We aren't using Amanita mushroom caps today," he explained, as kindly as he could. "Didn't you see where it said that in the instructions?"<p>

Vince shook his head and put the handful of ingredients down on the table, pushing on them with his palm so that most of them turned into green mush. Draco knew that Professor Snape wouldn't say anything, because Vince was a Slytherin and Professor Snape stuck by his Slytherins, but he grimaced a little himself at seeing the waste of valuable plants.

"Then I'll go get it myself," said Draco, and was proud of his wisdom. Potter hadn't come back with his own armful of necessary ingredients yet. This was the perfect chance to slip up on him and observe him with the basilisk, and maybe talk a little to Potter in a way that would get him his own basilisk eventually.

Vince nodded, but said nothing. Draco sighed. Sometimes he did envy people in other Houses who could have conversations with the people closest to them. But Vince and Greg had other virtues that made up for the lack of talking.

He stepped into the supply cupboard and saw Potter just plucking the last jar of diamond dust from the shelf. He immediately stared at Draco, rolled his eyes, and then started to walk around him towards the door.

"Potter, wait," said Draco. He tried to keep his voice calm and smooth, the voice his father used when he was going to tell Draco that he couldn't have something special he wanted. He thought he did a good job, but Potter still glanced back at him over his shoulder with an expression of disbelief.

"For what?" Potter asked. "You're going to insult me over something, and I don't see why I should stick around for that."

The basilisk hissed. Draco hoped he didn't look too envious. The basilisk was mostly draped over Potter's shoulders, but there was a ripple under Potter's robes that showed he ran further down, too. And Potter just stood there wearing him so casually, and comfortably, like he really didn't have anything to worry about.

Draco wanted that ease. He wanted a basilisk. He wanted to be a Parselmouth, to prove that he was the best Slytherin, and those older students could stop giving him those condescending looks, and others could stop muttering about how Draco didn't have any of the glories of the old Black blood.

He _wanted _so strongly that it gave him the ability to not insult Potter. He just shook his head and asked, "Do you think we could—we could be a little different?" He'd already asked Potter for friendship once. He wouldn't do it now. This was just a first step, and his father would say that you couldn't sacrifice _all _your pride for something small.

Potter blinked at Draco for a second, and then he snorted. _Snorted. _Draco could feel himself turning pink, and he bit his tongue so he wouldn't say something like, "I'll tell my father!" Potter would expect him to say that. Draco had to do the unexpected.

"This is the part where you tell me that I was wrong to choose Gryffindor and Ron and Hermione and all the rest of it?" Potter shook his head like it was a new fashion. "No. I love Dash and I'm glad I have him, but it's not going to make my friends reject me just because I have a basilisk. And I'm not a different person because I have him." The basilisk hissed again, and Potter reached up with an elbow and absently scratched the coil that flowed out of the top of his shirt. "So you're not right, Malfoy. There's no reason for me to say you were right."

"I wasn't going to say that!" Draco snapped, flustered. This was going all wrong. "I was going to say that you—that you _don't _choose your House, and I—I maybe was wrong to say that all worthwhile wizards end up in Slytherin."

There. _That _was a concession, and even someone like Potter ought to be able to see it and admire Draco for making it.

But for some reason, Potter was grinning at Draco again. "You can't choose your House, but I chose mine," he said. "Maybe I should thank you for it. Without you, the Hat would have put me in Slytherin. But I knew you were there, and I didn't want to go into the same house as a slimy git. So I told it to put me somewhere else. I chose Gryffindor." He bent towards Draco and whispered with a wink, "So you're _still _wrong, Malfoy."

Draco stared at him. He wanted to open his mouth and say something else, but his jaw felt as though someone had pasted it shut. Potter shrugged at him and started to walk away again.

"You didn't tell the Hat that," Draco said, suddenly angry. It was another lie, he thought, a lie that Potter was making up to make himself look special! It had to be! Why was Potter doing it? He must hate Draco a lot more than Draco had thought. "You didn't tell the Hat anything _like _that. You're in Gryffindor because your parents were."

"Keep telling yourself that." The basilisk flicked his tongue at Draco, and Draco thought maybe even he was laughing at him.

"You weren't supposed to be in _Slytherin!_" Draco took a long step forwards, and the day before, he would have grabbed Potter's shoulder and turned him around. But the basilisk was watching him, in a way that made Draco suddenly wary of the yellow glow beneath those clear eyelids. It would be so easy for the basilisk to open those eyelids…

"You don't have to believe me, Malfoy. You can go on acting the same stupid way you always did." Potter stopped and turned neatly on one heel to look back at him. "But _I'll _know the truth."

Draco started to say something. He didn't think it would really matter what it was. One way or another, he had to say something that would get him out of this situation and prove that Potter was _wrong_.

"Potter. Malfoy."

Professor Snape's voice came from the entrance to the supply cupboard, and Draco jumped and turned to gather ingredients. But Professor Snape's voice flicked again, and he said, "You will _stop_."

Draco turned slowly around, his hands in the air. It was an automatic reaction to hearing Professor Snape speak that way. Potter had his hand on the basilisk's head and was staring hard at those closed eyes. Draco swallowed. He wondered if the snake had been about to stare at him. But Potter didn't look at him, and the basilisk put his head down on the other side of Potter's neck a moment later, so it was hard to tell.

"Yes, Professor?" said Potter, and Draco wasn't the only one, he was certain, who could hear a question in the back of that tone.

Draco looked at his Head of House. Snape's eyes were locked on Potter, and there was an expression on his face that Draco had never seen before and couldn't identify. A second later, Professor Snape looked at him, and Draco lowered his gaze and swallowed. He was feeling extremely uncomfortable.

"You should have gathered up the ingredients and returned to the classroom several minutes ago," said Professor Snape at last, and his voice was that dreadful whip-flick again. "Mr. Malfoy, you will do so. And you will _stay _away from Potter."

Draco blinked, but said nothing as he snatched up the appropriate vials and twigs and mosses. He knew that Professor Snape would refuse to answer him, and that was Professor Snape's right.

But it was still hard, to walk out of there and wonder if he had blown his best chance to have a basilisk of his own.

* * *

><p>"Was your snake going to stare at Mr. Malfoy? Tell me the truth."<p>

Severus spoke the words because he had to, but his real project at the moment was his intense study of Potter. Potter stood there with his hand on the basilisk's neck, and his gaze appeared to be fixed on his own robe hem. He looked up when Severus completed the question, though, and shook his head.

"I won't let him look at anyone," he said. "I was just irritated, and Dash was moving up to the side of my head because he was irritated, too."

Severus grimaced. It was hard to tell how much of that was the truth. On the one hand, he knew that Potter lied to him on a regular basis, and that he disliked Draco.

On the other hand, it was also true that Draco sometimes antagonized Potter, and Severus had no _proof _that the basilisk would have looked at Draco. The mirrors that Dumbledore had enchanted were still hovering quietly in the air, for one thing, and Severus trusted Dumbledore's spells enough to know that they would be more agitated, at least vibrating, if Draco had been in serious danger.

"There is something you should know, Potter," said Severus.

"Yes, sir?" Potter was looking at the basilisk's scales now, running one finger along the delicate separations. He might be talking to the snake, too. Since he didn't have to speak Parseltongue aloud, Severus had no idea if he was. He only knew what he could go on, and his impression was that Potter hadn't meant to hurt Draco.

"This does not change your status with me," said Severus. "I am not going to suddenly treat you as someone special because you have a pet that may kill us all. Your _actions _could still kill us all."

Potter's head jerked up, and he focused on Severus this time instead of his snake, Severus was glad to see. His eyes were wide. "What do you mean? Sir," he added a moment later, although Severus hadn't changed the expression on his face.

"If you get yourself killed before you could face the Dark Lord."

Potter's face closed off in an instant. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," he said. "I know that I have to face him, _sir_. And Sirius Black. If Sirius Black kills me, there'll be no one left to kill Voldemort." He waved one hand at Severus and started to move past him, back into the classroom. His arms were still full of the ingredients.

Severus stepped in front of him as he went past. Potter glared at him as if _he _wanted to have a basilisk's gaze.

"Look," he hissed, and he sounded as though he spoke Parseltongue on a daily basis, "I _know _that my defeating him is important, all right? I'm sure that it is. I know that people count on me. I know that I can't just go out and hunt Sirius Black down. But I have someone who'll protect me now. So you can stop being afraid that I'll die before I have to save your arses."

"Language," said Severus, but he hesitated. He hadn't expected Potter to react the way he did to Severus's suggestion—rather, to smugly agree with the special status as the Boy-Who-Lived that it promised him, and strut out of the room.

And Severus had to decide what he was going to do with this unexpected information and actions _now_, before other students started to come into the cupboard looking for their ingredients.

"Knowing that you are bonded with a basilisk and might have been a Slytherin changes things," said Severus, before he could decide against it. "Not the mere presence of a basilisk itself."

Potter stared at him again, and Severus relished in the look in his eyes. He should look as confused as any thirteen-year-old in Severus's class, not adult and cynical.

"You will think about that," Severus ordered, and then swept out into the main classroom before Longbottom could cause another disaster.

Potter followed him, slowly. Severus felt the boy's eyes on him several times as he began to brew, even with Weasley's and Granger's whispered attempts to distract him.

_Let him think, _Severus thought. Even he was not sure what he might have put in play today, any more than he was sure how the boy's basilisk would ultimately change the shape of the war.

He only knew that it would happen, and he would make himself a player in that change now. Not a pawn.

_Not if I can help it._


	6. Slytherin and Gryffindor

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Six—Slytherin and Gryffindor_

"There is no way that you would be willing to leave the snake outside?"

It took Harry a moment to realize McGonagall was talking to him. He had been arguing with Dash about what Snape might have meant when he spoke to him earlier, and whose fault it really was that Dash had been close enough to the cauldron in Potions to get a drop of his saliva in the liquid, which of course wrecked everything.

"No, Professor," said Harry, when he could concentrate. He reached up and stroked Dash's scales, soothing down the hiss before it could begin. "Professor Dumbledore said I had to keep him with me at all times, just in case he tried to do something to somebody."

In truth, Harry thought the mirrors that Dumbledore had enchanted to whirl around him would probably follow Dash if they had to separate, but, well. There were some things McGonagall didn't need to know.

_Like how much you blame her for not believing you and going with you to find the Stone in your first year? _Dash asked thoughtfully.

Harry had already learned Dash was a genius. For example, he had a talent for asking questions like that right before a professor spoke. Harry was going to snap at him, but McGonagall said, "Then he will need to stay around your neck, and stay absolutely _quiet_. I won't have him disrupting my class. Transfiguration is a delicate subject."

Harry stared at McGonagall. Sure, he had heard her be harsh before, but not to people who hadn't done anything. And this time, he thought he saw a spark of disappointment in her eyes before she looked hastily away from him.

Was she disappointed in him for having a snake? For bonding with a basilisk? For speaking Parseltongue?

"_I don't think it matters,_" said Dash, and of course he hissed aloud, instead of speaking mentally into Harry's mind the way he'd been doing all morning. People jumped in their seats and turned around to flinch. Harry lowered his head and stroked Dash's neck. Dash continued relentlessly, his head weaving back and forth in a series of loops that immediately melted into one another. "_They would find some reason to dislike you._"

_But she never did it before, _Harry told Dash, as he pulled out his wand and got ready to pay attention to the lesson. This time, McGonagall was having them Transfigure small booklets into butterflies. Her voice was high and stiff as she recounted the lesson, and Harry was sure it had to do with him.

_Did she support you?_

Harry hesitated. It was true that he couldn't remember McGonagall intervening last year when people were telling him that he was the Heir of Slytherin. But she hadn't been upset with him. She had done what she could to treat him absolutely normally.

_Sometimes, that isn't what you need to do. _Dash's head nudged his cheek. _Sometimes, you need someone who's going to do more than that. _

Harry would have answered, but McGonagall said, "Mr. Potter, I _must _insist on you leaving the snake outside if he's going to be a distraction from your schoolwork."

Harry lowered his gaze to the booklet and managed a passable imitation of the wand movement, he thought. The pages of the booklet in front of him fluttered, but didn't Transfigure. Harry grimaced and tried it again. Still nothing happened, and he could feel the angry frustration at the back of his eyes that made them grow hot.

_You can't focus your magic that way, _said Dash. _You have to be calm and think about things that will make you even calmer._

_How can I do that when everyone's being stupid about you? _Harry slashed his wand down again. This time, the pages didn't even move. He thought he could see other people with wings beating on their desks, but he refused to look.

_You have to learn to focus through the anger. _With one wary eye on McGonagall, Dash edged his head down beside Harry's. _Look at me. My eyelids, not my eyes._

Harry did that. He didn't find the yellow glow behind them soothing, but Dash said softly, _Can you imagine the way that I would look if I had them open? I know that you haven't seen a basilisk's eyes, but—_

_I almost saw them last year in the Chamber of Secrets. That's as close as I want to come. _Harry could feel sweat prickling beneath his hair as those memories woke up again.

_Then they aren't the best thing for you to focus on, no matter how yellow and deep they are. _Dash sounded a little amused. _What calms you down the most?_

Harry had to think about it, and practice the wand movement a little more, since McGonagall was walking past and giving him a stern look. But he finally said, _Flying. _

Dash brushed his neck coil against Harry's ear. It would probably look like nothing much to anyone else, but he and Harry could feel the difference. That did make Harry calm down a little, thinking about secrets that only he and Dash could share.

_Then think about the way you are when you're flying, _Dash murmured. _Think about the way your muscles relax. You're getting ready to leap onto the broom, and I know you're alert and ready_—

Harry thought it would take him a while to get used to someone who could hear his thoughts before he had them.

_But you also have to be calm and focused, because you're going to lose the game if you aren't. Can you think that way through your muscles? Can you think that way about your wand movement, and do the same thing?_

Harry thought. His arm relaxed, and he wondered if that had been Dash's doing. Wondering made him start to tense up again.

_You should still be thinking about getting ready to fly, _Dash scolded him. _Remember, I can feel it if you aren't._

Maybe there was an advantage to having a monitor who could see everything in his head, Harry considered. He did his best to think about flying and the rush of wind past him and the relaxation that he always felt when he'd been up there a while. He felt it even when he was struggling to beat Malfoy. He always knew he would win if he just concentrated.

Dash murmured to him, but Harry wasn't thinking much about the words anymore. He lifted his wand and brought it down in the movement McGonagall had showed them, instead, muttering the incantation the way he would mutter insults against Malfoy.

"Impressive, Mr. Potter."

Harry blinked his eyes and came slowly out of his trance. When he looked down, he could see that he had mostly managed the Transfiguration. The pages of his booklet were butterfly-shaped, black with blue stripes around the edges; there was a head at one end; and the body mostly followed the book's spine. The only thing that was wrong was the papery antennae hanging off the head.

"Did you do that following your familiar's advice?" McGonagall asked, and there was a slight edge to her voice now.

Harry looked up and shook his head. "Dash only hatched yesterday, Professor. He doesn't know anything about Transfiguration. And I'm not sure he's my familiar," he added, turning his head and staring at Dash. _Are you?_

_It would depend on what you mean by that statement, _Dash replied, and took a moment to lick through his memories in the way that Harry had almost become accustomed to him doing. _No, I do not think I am. I can't link with you and ground you in the way that familiars are supposed to do. And the bond they share is different than the one we have._

"He says he isn't," Harry said to McGonagall, and endured a few moments of her sharp stare before she nodded.

"Then continue doing what you were doing," she ordered him, and marched over to Neville, who had somehow managed to create a one-winged butterfly flapping slowly and sadly in a circle on the table.

Harry Transfigured the booklet back into a butterfly; that was a lot easier than the other way around. Then he went back to work, imagining a different kind of butterfly in his mind as hard as he could. Maybe if he created one that was Gryffindor red and gold, then McGonagall would be a little less suspicious of him.

* * *

><p>"That child will turn my hair white before the end."<p>

Severus paused, then eased back behind the door of the infirmary. He had come to ask Poppy for burn paste, so as to have some on hand the next time he encountered Longbottom, but it seemed someone was before him in visiting the mediwitch. And that person was Minerva McGonagall.

She had mentioned no names yet, but Severus could well imagine what child was driving her to distraction.

"You shouldn't let Harry upset you so much that you need a Headache Draught," Poppy said, practical as always, and confirming Severus's suspicion at the same time. "I think it's wonderful that he made friends with a snake. The child has almost none."

"So Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger are nothing, then?" Minerva's voice fired up, muted for only a moment by the clink of a vial against her teeth. "I'll have you know, Pomona was complaining the other day that they have no talent in Herbology, that Mr. Weasley doesn't pay enough attention to the plants he's potting and Miss Granger is all theory, but I've seen both of them do remarkable things—"

"And they can't be with him all the time," Poppy retorted. Severus heard her shifting vials about. She kept them organized neatly, he had to admit, but in a way so different from his own that it was simpler to ask her for the burn paste than try and find it himself. "I hope that snake will do something to discourage people from hurting Harry outside school."

Severus settled against the wall. He had no idea what Poppy was talking about, but he knew a bit of juicy gossip when he heard one.

"Who are you talking about, Poppy?" Minerva demanded. Severus heard her pacing back and forth, and imagined a tail switching from under her robes. He had seen her once in the middle of her Animagus transformation, when she was still shedding her clothes; it was not a sight one forgot easily. "I know that none of the Death Eaters has the slightest idea where the boy lives, or he would have been in trouble this past summer, after what he did to Lucius Malfoy at the end of last year."

Severus narrowed his eyes. He had heard rumors of the trouble between Potter and Lucius, but they had not spread far before Lucius squashed them, and Severus was unsure what had happened. Something humiliating for Lucius, at least.

"I'm not talking about Death Eaters," said Poppy.

"Then tell me _who_ you're talking about," said Minerva, but her voice had dipped, as if she had taken up Poppy's fears of eavesdroppers.

Long years as a spy and long experience of Poppy Pomfrey told Severus what she would do next. He immediately Disillusioned himself and crept into the hospital wing, moments before Poppy cast a shimmering curtain of magic that would cover the entrance and block out sound. She always did that when discussing controversial medical information about students.

Minerva was standing in front of Poppy, her face strained. Severus arranged himself in a corner to watch. Of course, perhaps she was only strained for the same reason she had come asking for a headache draught: precious Potter had picked up a snake and ruined her image of him as the perfect Gryffindor.

But there was something else there, Severus was certain, after studying her for a bit. Something that implied she _knew _what Poppy was about to say, and dreaded it.

"You know very well who I'm talking about, Minerva." Poppy leaned a hand on her arm and then leaned near, as well, making Severus glad that he was in the hospital wing. Even without the spell that prevented eavesdropping, Poppy spoke quietly enough he wouldn't have heard her from the corridor. "Those _Dursleys_."

Severus cocked his head. Yes, he knew the name. Potter's Muggle relatives.

_So?_

But he could not pretend that it did not matter, not in the privacy of his own head, which was the only place Lily still lived. He would admit secrets to himself that he would never admit aloud.

"I knew they were the worst sort of Muggles," Minerva answered, quietly, voice as soft as though she was struggling against passion. "But I _never_ thought—Petunia was Lily's sister! I heard Lily talk about her often enough! How _could _she hurt her own nephew? And someone who lost his parents, like Harry did!"

Severus closed his eyes. Sometimes Minerva's blind Gryffindor faith in human nature irritated him. She had been through a war, and she dealt with the petty intrigues and silly lies of students every day. She should know better than this.

"You'd think not," said Poppy, in the same sort of voice Severus had heard her use with a Slytherin last year who wouldn't stop hexing her Housemates. "But that's the way it is. And the way that boy looks, as though no one has ever asked him how he's feeling, when I do it…it's true, Minerva. It _must _be true. And that's something that snake might be able to keep him safe from, at least."

"You never told anyone?" Minerva looked hunched and sad when Severus opened his eyes. At least her faith wasn't making her blind anymore.

"I told myself it was for the best if I didn't." Poppy sighed. "Harry never admitted anything. I did think about telling Dumbledore, but then that incident happened this summer when Harry went to stay in Diagon Alley, and you would think that the papers never had anything _else _to talk about, the fuss they raised over it. What if I complained, and Harry ended up in the custody of someone even worse for him? A Death Eater like Lucius Malfoy?" She sighed again and pressed her hand against her forehead. "Fudge is certainly close enough with Malfoy for that to happen."

Severus listened and said nothing—of course, there was no one to say it to, but this was more than that. There was a gap behind Poppy's words, a fear she must have. Adverse publicity alone would never have kept her quiet; nor would a child's wishes, considering how many children she bundled potions into and bedsheets across every day. And the incident with Potter's aunt that she was crediting had happened only a few months ago.

No, there was someone else keeping her quiet, someone she didn't want to name, maybe out of fear, maybe because the loss of that faith for her was more than she could stand.

Severus knew who it was.

"I suppose that the snake _might _be a good thing, then," said Minerva grudgingly. "But only if it does not help him cheat in classes! He cast a Transfiguration spell today that I've never seen a third-year do as well, except Miss Granger."

"Is merely doing a spell well a cause of cheating?" Poppy smiled a little. "Perhaps you might leave his snake with him and only separate them during exams. That might be the most he would allow you to do, anyway."

"_Allow _me to do," said Minerva frigidly.

Severus recognized the turn the conversation had taken, and determined that he had no reason to stay and listen further. He had his own methods of dealing with Potter should he try to use the basilisk to cheat during an exam or a brewing session when the students were supposed to work alone. He turned and slipped across the infirmary to the spell Poppy had cast, which was much easier to make a hole in from the inside than the outside.

Once back in the corridor, Severus adjusted his robes around himself and made his way slowly back towards the dungeons, mind on his classes and his marking.

And only an undercurrent of thought running, carrying the powerful images and information that Poppy had told him about, all unwitting.

* * *

><p>The instant Harry walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Lupin caught his eye and beckoned him aside. "I need to talk to you, Harry," he said, quietly but insistently.<p>

Harry walked over to Lupin, wondering if the man was finally going to give him an answer about why he hadn't let him face the Boggart. Dash was silent on his neck, shifting around so that Harry could bear his weight more comfortably and take some of the pressure off the middle of his back. Maybe he could smell the magical creatures Lupin worked with. Maybe he didn't know what to make of Lupin.

_Maybe you could ask me if you wanted to know what I was thinking, _Dash sniped back, and sent a flood of images that he had picked up on from Harry's mind, including the one of Lupin shoving him away from the Boggart. _I don't like him._

Harry rolled his eyes a little, making sure that he was done before Lupin faced him again. _Well, I do. So we'll just disagree._

Dash made a soft annoyed sound, and Lupin jumped as though someone had pricked him with a pin and then looked at Dash with concern. "You know I've made my living studying Dark creatures, Harry," he began.

Harry nodded and raised a hand to pet Dash's neck. "Does this have something to do with why I couldn't face the Boggart, sir?"

Professor Lupin looked at him with a blank face for a second. Harry thought he wouldn't get an answer, but then Lupin waved a hand and said, "Oh, that. No, I thought your boggart would be You-Know-Who and would frighten everyone else."

Harry frowned. It sounded dismissive. "It would have been a Dementor, sir. If—"

Lupin interrupted before he could get that far. "You know you have one of the Darkest of Dark creatures around your neck, Harry? The Ministry rates them as extremely dangerous. No one except an expert should handle them."

Harry opened his mouth to say _No shit? _But he ended up swallowing back the words. He'd already argued with enough people about Dash, who was hissing angrily enough that Harry couldn't even pick up the words. A torrent of images rushed through his head, a lot of them showing Dash chasing Lupin.

_You are not chasing Lupin, _Harry scolded him. _He just doesn't understand. That's true of lots of other people, too._

_But not many who make a living studying Dark creatures, _Dash reminded him. Still, he calmed down and only let one heavy loop of his body dangle down Harry's chest so that it interfered with Harry's arms and was generally inconvenient. Harry patiently moved it out of the way again.

"Yes, I know," said Harry, when he realized Professor Lupin was still waiting for an answer to his question, and some of the other students were turning around in their desks and looking at them. He didn't want to be accused of being _special _or the Professor's favorite or anything like that. "I fought one last year."

Lupin blinked slowly. "Then why are you walking around with one around your neck?"

_Because you're not stupid and know that your life is better with me in it._

"Because he needed help," Harry said simply.

"Yes, the Headmaster told us the story." Still Lupin didn't move, and Harry was beginning to wonder what he wanted. "Would you have gone down and tried to help him if you realized that he was crying out in Parseltongue?"

"Yes, probably," said Harry. He honestly hadn't considered it, but the more he thought about it, the more sense it made to go if he _did _know it was Parseltongue. Who else in the whole school was going to hear and help?

"You know that you're in a lot of danger from Sirius Black, Harry—"

Dash lifted his head and twisted it, and Harry smiled. "Not anymore."

Lupin looked at him with a grave face that made Harry want to look down. But he put his hand on Dash's neck and didn't. If Lupin wanted Harry to care about Sirius Black, then he shouldn't have told Harry all about the danger he could get into wandering around. Harry was taking the danger seriously. He had a snake to defend him, now.

_And I will always defend you, _Dash told him, and this time the rasp of his scales along the back of Harry's hand was like a caress.

"See," Harry said, and then remembered that Lupin couldn't hear the words Dash was speaking, and wouldn't have a reason to feel reassured. He shook his head a little and continued. "I mean, now that I have a dangerous snake, Sirius Black will stay away, right? Maybe he'll decide that I'm evil and he doesn't have to hurt me. So he can go away, and no one has to get hurt."

"I hope that you would know better than to let your snake hurt anyone, Harry," said Lupin. "Even someone like Black. People deserve to have a trial."

"He wasn't going to give me one, was he?" Harry asked, and suddenly felt a clogging rush in his throat that could have become a shout or tears yesterday. He coughed, while Dash touched his cheek with a blunt nose, and it went away. "He wants me dead for a stupid reason, because I somehow defeated Voldemort when I was _one_. I don't know what he thinks killing me is going to do! It's not going to bring him back!"

The other students were definitely staring and whispering now, and Lupin reached out and settled a heavy, cautious hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't let your snake hurt Black," he said. "Don't let him hurt _anyone, _Harry. Or he could get taken away."

_He is very strange, _said Dash, with a lash inside Harry's head that was shorter than any lash of his tongue he had made. _Does he want to warn or threaten you?_

Harry shrugged and looked at the ground. He still liked Professor Lupin, but he didn't know what else Lupin expected him to do. All anyone had done was tell him that Black was dangerous and he had to stay inside the school and he should be careful in case Black tried to kill him, and now they were unhappy because Harry had someone who would stay with him all the time and protect him?

_It's like they care more about my reputation or the other students or even Black instead of me. I want someone who puts me first._

Dash leaned his head sideways and rubbed his cheek against Harry's. Lupin stared. Harry reckoned it was something he hadn't thought a basilisk would do.

"Well," said Lupin, after clearing his throat for a moment. "Maybe you should come and sit down, and—we'll think about what you should do with the basilisk later. I don't mind you having him in class as long as he doesn't hurt anyone."

Harry nodded, because he knew Dash wouldn't, and then walked over to his seat. Ron patted his shoulder awkwardly, carefully avoiding Dash's tail. "Are you okay, mate?" he asked.

Harry sniffled, then said, "Yeah. It's just—it's just hard, when I don't know where Black is or what he's doing. It's hard being hunted all the time, you know?" It was as close as he could come to saying what was wrong, which wouldn't have been as easy to put into words.

Ron nodded sympathetically, and then Professor Lupin started the lesson. Dash gently tightened a coil of his body around Harry's throat.

_I'm going to be here. I'm going to guard you. I'm going to put you first._

Harry already didn't think he could have turned away from Dash, after rescuing him form the egg and hearing Dash talk to him in his head, but he _knew _he couldn't turn away now. He hugged Dash's tail, and he didn't care who saw him. They would stare at him and whisper anyway, no matter what he did, so Harry would take comfort where he could find it.


	7. Charge the Enemy

Thanks again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Seven—Charge the Enemy_

Harry wouldn't say that life stayed exactly the same as it had before he had Dash—for one thing, the amount of people staring at him was greater than it had ever been—but it did come to have its own routine.

Professor Lupin was teaching all sorts of lessons that Harry liked. They learned about all sorts of dangerous, Dark magical creatures, and the ways to counter their powers and make sure that they didn't hurt anybody if they had to face them. Harry sometimes had to filter his way through Dash's many comments when he did his homework, but in class, Dash was as silent and attentive as any of them.

It was only when he was hanging from Harry's neck and reading the homework that he became dismissive. _Something like a simple Tripping Jinx wouldn't stop me._

_Of course it wouldn't, _Harry retorted, and began to correct the spelling of the last sentence he'd written. He had a hard time with certain words. Hermione didn't, but Hermione didn't have a hard time with anything when it came to homework. And Hermione wasn't here, as she usually wasn't lately. _You don't have feet._

_Not only for that reason. _Dash coiled slowly around his throat, and let his tail drop on the paper. _When are you going to learn something about basilisks? About how beautiful and violent we are, for starters._

Harry laughed, which made Ron, who was working on his essay beside him, jump. But a second later, Ron rolled his eyes and went back to writing. He and the other Gryffindors had adapted pretty easily to Harry having conversations in his own head, and sometimes laughing or snorting or reacting oddly aloud.

_Most people wouldn't consider that those two words go together, you know, _Harry said, and reached up to rub his knuckles over Dash's head. Dash liked it when he would rub gently up to the base of the plume, and then even more gently up it. He said the plume couldn't stand rough handling. _Or they wouldn't think it was a good thing if they did._

Dash lashed out with his tongue, turning his head back and forth as if he wanted to catch subtle scents fleeing through the Gryffindor dorm. He seemed particularly focused on Ron's bed, for some reason. _That is because most people do not understand how wonderful basilisks are, _he said, distracted. _Your professor promised to teach you more about my kind. Why hasn't he done so?_

Harry waved his hand at the essay. _He's been teaching us other things._

_I'm hungry, _Dash whined, not paying attention to Harry's words, which was a sure sign that he really was.

Harry grimaced a little. The last time Dash had been hungry, a week ago, he'd taken him out into the Forbidden Forest and fed him again, but McGonagall had caught him this time. Quiet and forceful, she'd made it clear that sneaking outside the school after curfew wouldn't be tolerated anymore. She'd assigned Harry a detention where he had to write lines about responsibility and dangerous pets until his fingers almost fell off.

Dash had spent that detention peacefully sleeping off his full stomach in the corner of the classroom, one of the few times he'd been inside and not attached to Harry. He didn't understand why Harry's hands were sore afterwards and Harry couldn't pet Dash to his demanding satisfaction.

Now, Harry wasn't sure what to do. McGonagall had told Harry that house-elves could bring Dash food, but Harry thought even the elves would draw the line at dead rabbits. Or living rabbits, rather, since Dash liked to kill them himself.

_Harry, are you listening to me? _

_Yes, _Harry said, and shook his head. Well, he had Quidditch practice in half an hour, since Oliver wanted nothing more than the Quidditch Cup. He could take Dash with him and feed him then, since at least they would be outside.

_I'm hungry _now, Dash insisted, and then slithered down from Harry's shoulders to the floor, an unfolding motion so smooth that it took Harry a moment to realize what was happening. _If there's food in the room and you're not giving it to me, that's basilisk abuse._

Harry opened his mouth to retort, then paused and blinked. Ron had gone very still, the way he did whenever Dash climbed off Harry. _What are you talking about, food in the room? I don't think any Forbidden Forest creatures have got in here. _There were also no more spiders left in the entire Gryffindor Tower, much to Ron's joy.

_Basilisk abuse, _Dash repeated firmly, and slithered towards Ron's bed.

Harry leaped to his feet. He had just thought about what Dash probably meant, and Ron would never forgive him if Dash got that far. " _Dash_—"

There was a terrified squeaking noise. Dash lunged, and Scabbers scuttled out from beneath Ron's bed and ran madly for the door.

Dash coiled the top half of his body around—he didn't need to cover the full distance when his size did most of the covering for him, Harry thought, distracted—and there was a telltale quiver in the clear lids that covered his eyes.

"_Do not_," Harry said. He didn't even know he could sound that commanding in Parseltongue. Of course, the only time he had really tried before this was when he was telling Malfoy's conjured snake to get away from Justin.

Dash turned his head slowly back towards Harry, who found himself standing up. He crossed his arms and frowned at Dash. _I'm not afraid of you, _he said down the bond. _I know you could kill me with a look, but you wouldn't do that, because it would mean that you wouldn't have someone to tease anymore._

Dash moved with terrifying speed, and wrapped himself around Harry from the floor up, so his head was hovering at Harry's eye level. _That's not the only reason I wouldn't kill you. I would never hurt you. I wouldn't want to hurt you._

Harry maintained his stern look for a few moments, and then smiled and reached out and rubbed behind Dash's plume. _Fine. But you would hurt me if you hurt Ron or my friendship with Ron._

Dash did an intricate little dance of disgust with his head. _Would he put that ugly creature whose only value is in being a mouthful for me above your friendship?_

_He's attached to it. The way I'm attached to you._

Dash sent image after image of disgust and dirt and dung and filth at Harry for comparing him to Scabbers. Harry ignored him and turned around to see Ron cradling Scabbers protectively against his chest.

"Is he all right?" Harry asked, feeling a little guilty. He should have known what Dash was up to before now and stopped him. Scabbers had probably only survived this long in Gryffindor Tower with a snake because he usually hid, and Dash followed Harry's routine and didn't interact much with Scabbers.

"Yeah, I think so." Ron looked up, and his eyes were as menacing as Harry had ever seen them. "No thanks to that _thing_."

Harry breathed through his own anger. Dash could have killed Scabbers. It was extremely unlikely that it would work the other way around, or that Ron would dare to attack Dash, so Dash wasn't in danger. "Sorry, then," he said.

Ron replied, but Harry didn't hear him, filled as his mind was with the buzz of Dash's voice. _Why does the rat smell human?_

Harry stared blankly at Dash for a moment. _Because Ron is holding him? _he finally offered. It wasn't like Dash to ask for Harry's assistance in a matter that concerned scents. Harry certainly couldn't compete with him in scenting things, and Dash was usually the one who told Harry when something smelled off.

_No, it is more than that. _Dash coiled himself up and up until a good chunk of his heavy body was resting on top of Harry's head. Harry grunted and bore it. It wasn't the most awkward position Dash had put him in. _He smells human, himself. What is the name for humans who can turn into rats? And do they taste good?_

Harry stared up at Dash. Dash looked back down at him, draping his head sideways until almost all of his body was slipping off Harry's forehead like a crown. _What? Did I discover something new? Didn't you know there were humans who could turn into rats? _

Harry turned shakily away from Dash, although he put one hand on the bend of Dash's body to show that he hadn't been forgotten, and whispered, "Ron? Can I talk to you downstairs, please?"

Ron nodded, looking confused. He started to leave the room carrying Scabbers.

"No!" Harry yelped, and he decided that he must have sounded too panicked, because Scabbers abruptly leaped up, bit Ron's finger, and dropped to the floor as Ron yelped. He was running straight for the door, and Harry reached out a desperate hand, even though he knew that once the rat got out the door, they would probably never find him.

Dash launched himself smoothly from the top of Harry's head, as if he had wings. He landed between Scabbers and the door, and swayed back and forth like a cobra, hissing what Harry knew weren't Parseltongue words, just random threatening sounds. Scabbers froze, his legs locked beneath him, squeaking frantically.

"What the _bloody hell _is going on?" Ron bellowed, wringing his finger and sending blood in all directions. "Scabbers, come back here right now!" He ran towards the rat, who dodged and ran towards Ron's bed.

Harry finally cast the Tripping Jinx that he'd been writing about for Lupin's essay. He didn't have any other spell in his head, and this one worked well enough, mostly missing Scabbers but still sending him somersaulting tail over head.

Dash was flooding forwards, murmuring, _We need to do something about the variety of spells you know, especially the curses, _when Ron leaped in between him and Scabbers and snatched the rat up. Dash paused, watching Ron through his eyelids. Harry could almost feel the way Ron shook from here, but he didn't move.

_He is brave, _Dash said admiringly. _And maybe he loves that human who's also a rat. Does he know who it is? Ask him if he does. This is interesting._

Harry closed his eyes. He would have to do this, even though he would rather go get a professor and bring them here. But he thought by the time he did that, Ron would have let Scabbers go, and he would run away somewhere, and trying to find a rat in a castle this size wasn't something Harry wanted to think about.

"Ron," he said, and waited until his friend was paying attention to him instead of Dash, even though that took a while. "Dash says that Scabbers isn't a rat."

"What else is he, then?" Ron said, and clutched Scabbers still closer. The rat seemed to be awake again, but he was huddling frozen. Harry hoped that had something to do with Dash's stare, even muffled. He had read somewhere that some snakes could hypnotize their prey with their eyes.

_That seems like a foolish thing to do. You stalk it and then you kill it with your poison or your body. _Hypnotism.

Harry, steadied by the solid force of Dash's contempt, took a deep breath and said, "Dash says that he smells human. I think—is it possible that he's an Animagus?"

Ron stared at him as if he had gone mad. But Scabbers proved Harry's contention, as far as Harry was concerned, by leaping up to Ron's shoulder and flying desperately into the air, aiming for Harry.

Harry had no idea what Scabbers was going to do, if he was trying to bite him or just get beyond him and run away. But Harry's hand flashed out instinctively. After all, Scabbers wasn't that much bigger than a Snitch. In a second, he had a palmful of squirming fur, and Scabbers was trying to bite him, and then Dash slithered up beside him and Scabbers went very still again.

Panting, Harry told Dash, _Admit it. You can hypnotize someone by looking at them through your eyelids. One of the lesser known powers of the basilisk._

_You sound like that book you were reading for Lupin's class this afternoon. _Dash tilted his head to the side and unhinged his jaw in a yawn. Harry became aware that something wet and stinky was dribbling over his fingers, and wrinkled his nose. _And I haven't hypnotized him. He's just so cowardly that he can't stand being in the same room with me._

Harry opened his mouth to retort, then paused. It was true that he had seen very little of Scabbers since Dash had come to live with him. He had just thought that was for the same reason that he'd seen little of Scabbers at any time lately, though. Crookshanks kept trying to attack him.

_That cat is smarter than it looks._

Harry shook his head and turned to Ron, who was marching towards him and asking, "What are you doing with my rat?"

"Listen," said Harry. Ron stopped and folded his arms, but reluctantly listened. "Why would an ordinary rat panic when I talked about going downstairs without him? Why would he make a flying leap when I asked if he was an Animagus?" Scabbers squealed miserably and paddled at the air with his paws, but went still again when Dash glanced at him, and Harry nodded. He had to reach up past his own head to pet Dash on the nose, but this once, he didn't mind someone being taller than he was. "See?" Harry added. "Rats don't understand human speech. Unless they're not rats."

"Your bloody snake understands English," Ron said, with a look at Dash that was anything but friendly.

Harry shrugged that impatiently aside. "That's because he's bonded with me and understanding the words when I do. He wouldn't be able to read or understand what someone was saying if I wasn't there." Dash hissed in agreement, making Ron jump. "But Scabbers can't understand you or me. Right? Unless you're secretly a Rodentmouth and you never told me."

That won a brief, reluctant smile from Ron, but he still shook his head. "All right, it's weird. But I always thought Scabbers was a magical rat. He's already lived a long time. A lot longer than most rats should."

Harry looked at him in silence, and Ron turned red. "He could still be magical!" he insisted.

"Or he could be an Animagus," Harry said.

"Fine. You don't need to sound like you think it's obvious and I'm stupid. Your snake didn't even smell him at first." Ron gave a glance at Dash.

_I could never smell the bloody creature separately until today. He was always on the blankets or in the hands that also smelt of human._

Harry decided that he didn't need to speak that bit aloud. "Sorry if I sound like I think you're stupid. I don't. But I do think he's an Animagus. And we need someone who can tell us. Someone who knows a spell that can force an Animagus to turn back or something."

For the first time since Harry had got Dash, he and Ron had an idea at the same time. "McGonagall," they said simultaneously, and ran for the staircase.

Dash slithered after them, accompanied by Dumbledore's mirrors. _You're going to trip on the staircase when you're holding something in one hand, Harry, _he offered innocently. _I could carry Scabbers for you. Perhaps in my mouth._

Harry rolled his eyes and kept running. Ron was pounding along beside him, and casting glances at Scabbers that made Harry understand why. It couldn't be comfortable knowing that maybe an Animagus had slept in the same bed as you for years, and you hadn't known.

_Maybe McGonagall can transform and hunt him down if he does manage to escape, _Harry thought hopefully. He was really hoping that she would make everything make sense and go away.

_She shouldn't get to eat him, _said Dash sulkily behind him. _I was hungry first._

* * *

><p>Professor McGonagall looked at them when she opened her office door in a way that made Harry shrink. He wondered if he was wrong, if they should have tried to handle this themselves instead of going to a teacher.<p>

But then Professor McGonagall looked at the rat in Harry's hands, and her eyebrows went up. "Have you brought me Mr. Weasley's pet to doctor, Mr. Potter?" she asked. "I'm afraid that I don't know as much about animals as I should. Professor Hagrid would be a better choice."

"No," said Ron, sounding breathless. Harry was just as glad to let him explain. "We think my rat might be an Animagus, and Harry said—there's spells—you could use a spell that would show if he was?"

McGonagall snapped upright. "There are indeed spells like that. But why do you think your rat is an Animagus, Mr. Weasley?"

Her eyes went to Dash. Harry nodded and touched his neck. "He said that Scabbers smelled human. And then Scabbers started acting strange, like he understood English, when we were talking about it. And he's lived a long time for a rat."

McGonagall's eyebrows came down. "Well," she said softly, and reached for Scabbers with her left hand, lifting her wand with the right.

Scabbers made one more desperate leap, towards the door. Dash snapped around, but the door had already flown shut. That must be some nonverbal magic, Harry decided, awed. Professor Lupin had mentioned it, but also said they wouldn't learn it until sixth year.

"_Homorpho!_" said McGonagall with what Harry thought was an impressive amount of calm, and the air around Scabbers boiled. He was squealing in what sounded like shrill despair as the magic forced him towards the floor, and then he spun around and began to grow.

Ron stepped back, looking sick. Harry caught his shoulder and squeezed tight. It was as much comfort as he could think about giving right now, when their fascinated gazes were still locked on the rat that had been Scabbers.

The _man _that had been Scabbers. Harry could see that he was a man now. He was naked and manky and smelled bad, and he had hair that hung around his face. He kept his head down and gnawed on his nails. McGonagall waved her wand and probably used some nonverbal magic again, and suddenly the man was dressed in a brown coat that covered him from his chest down to the floor. He looked up in shock.

McGonagall breathed in sharply enough that Harry thought she sounded as if she'd hurt herself. "'Peter_ Pettigrew_?"

Harry stared with his heart pounding. Ron made a disbelieving noise. "Not—not—"

"As in the wizard who was supposedly killed by Sirius Black when he went mad and killed those Muggles." McGonagall cast another spell, her eyes so wide that Harry blinked. He had never thought _anything_ would surprise McGonagall like that. "I don't understand—no. Now that I know he is a rat Animagus, I do." She advanced one step and cast another spell, and ropes appeared around Pettigrew, binding him. "Speak, Peter."

Pettigrew, if it was him, whimpered and tried to rub his hands together, but the ropes around his limbs held them in place, and he couldn't. "I—I escaped. It was a miracle. But I was t-too afraid to come back when Black was at large, and—"

"Black was in prison for twelve years," said McGonagall. Her voice was level, and Harry decided they had made the right choice after all, getting a professor to handle it. "You were too afraid _even then _to come back and tell the Ministry what had happened?"

Pettigrew said nothing, but crouched and squeaked. McGonagall's eyes were distant, and she abruptly made a sharp movement with her wand. The sleeve on the left arm of Pettigrew's coat writhed back.

Harry stared at the deep, coal-black marking on Pettigrew's left arm, not understanding. It looked like a snake and a skull—

_And the snake isn't a basilisk, _Dash said, writhing around so that his tail was knotted around Harry's legs. _What a waste. If you were going to design a symbol with a snake in it, why wouldn't you use a basilisk?_

Harry touched the top of Dash's head, feeling lost. He didn't understand what was going on. He looked at McGonagall, who was pale and gripping the side of her desk as if she needed the support to keep from falling down. That scared Harry more than anything had so far, even when he thought Scabbers was going to get away.

"A Death Eater," McGonagall whispered.

This time, Ron was the one who squeaked. "A—a follower of You-Know-Who?" he asked, and McGonagall nodded.

Harry stared at the snake and skull and wondered what to say. He didn't know if he _could _say anything. His mouth was dry and he wanted to sit down and he wanted to run away and he wanted to vomit.

"It seems," said McGonagall, in almost a mumble, "that there were—there were _two _Death Eaters among your parents' friends, Mr. Potter." She looked at Harry with pity that he had to look away from. "Either that, or something has gone very wrong here, and we have imprisoned—"

Her jaw trembled. Her face was flushed now, and Harry was astonished to see the flash of what might have been tears at the edge of her eyelids. But then McGonagall turned away briskly, and Harry could pretend he hadn't seen them at all, which was more comfortable.

"Professor Lupin's office!" McGonagall called, casting Floo powder into the flames. "Yes, Remus. I'm sorry to disturb you when you're marking, but we have an…extraordinary situation here. Can you come to my office? Yes, right away, please. Give me a moment to call the Headmaster." She closed the Floo connection, and then called, "Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster!"

It seemed to take longer for the Headmaster to answer, and McGonagall turned back to Harry and Ron with a vague frown. "You should go, boys—"

Dash twisted around like a pillar of smoke and hissed, harsh and threatening, his fangs bared. McGonagall froze.

"It's all right," Harry said hastily, and yanked Dash back down. "It's just, how in the world can we _go_? He was Ron's _rat_!And if he has something to do with my parents, I really want to stay. Please, Professor McGonagall," he added, when she opened her mouth. "I don't know _anything _about them except that my dad was good at Quidditch and they died defending me, not really."

McGonagall was going to say something else, but Dumbledore's voice said from the fire, "Yes, Minerva, what is it?"

"Fine, you may stay," said McGonagall, with the air of someone granting permission they would regret asking for, and turned around again. A careless wave of her wand Transfigured two small trunks into chairs.

Ron settled down in one of the chairs, never taking his gaze off Pettigrew. Harry sat down in the other one and tugged Dash up beside him. _Don't hiss at anyone else._

_But because of me, you got to stay, _Dash said, and curled his tail around Harry's waist in what was almost a hug. _Now. Can I eat him in human form?_


	8. Communing With the Snake

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Eight-Communing with the Snake_

_Is he ever going to give you an answer, or is he just going to sit there smoothing down his beard and smiling? _

Harry tipped his head to the side so that his cheek brushed against Dash's scales. _Not just that. See the way his eyes shifted to focus on me when I did that? He's disturbed about something._

Dash curled so that a stray coil was wrapped around Harry's neck and started squeezing lightly. _Then he could say it, instead of sitting there and acting like he's going to say something any moment, but then not saying it._

Before Harry could answer, Dumbledore said, "So, Remus, you are sure this is the real Peter? And there's nothing else you want to tell me?"

Professor Lupin had been looking at Pettigrew with a fixed stare for at least as long as Dumbledore had sat behind the desk in McGonagall's office stroking his beard. Now he shivered and looked up. "It's the real Peter Pettigrew, all right," he said, and then turned around and stared at Pettigrew again.

"How did it happen?"

Harry was glad McGonagall was there. He wanted to say something, but he had no idea what to say, and he thought it was the same thing with Ron. Ron kept opening his mouth, then closing it again. He caught Harry's eye now and went a little red, and Harry tried to nod reassuringly.

"I don't know," Lupin said blankly. "I think-I _thought _that Sirius was the Secret-Keeper for Harry's parents. But even if Sirius is a Death Eater, too, it doesn't make any sense that he would have hunted Peter down then." He shivered again and abruptly turned to Dumbledore with an expression that Harry thought was a little pathetic. "Unless Peter was a spy? Like-like other people were said to be?"

_Who are those other people? _Dash asked, and stroked Harry's earlobe with his tongue again. But no one was really paying attention to them at the moment, so no one was disturbed.

"No," said Dumbledore, and at this voice, Pettigrew cowered and put his arms over his head. "Peter was not a spy." He leaned in. "Unless Peter explains it to us, then it seems I will just have to make my own guesses."

Harry waited-he thought they all waited-but the silence was full of the sound of Pettigrew breathing fast, and nothing else. Dumbledore finally straightened up and made a sighing sound.

"I think that Sirius Black was still the original Secret-Keeper," he whispered. "I was there during most of the discussions James and Lily held, when they were preparing to hide." He turned abruptly to Harry. "You were there, too, Harry. So young, with the way you reached out and tried to play with my wand."

Harry tried to smile back, but he knew it was shaky. Dash made a noise in his head that resembled his fangs scraping down bone-and Harry wasn't sure that he wanted to know more about why that noise seemed so familiar. _He thinks he's going to win you over _now? _He ought to know that I'm on your shoulder, and he's not going to do anything so ridiculous._

Harry chose not to respond. It was a glimpse of his childhood he was getting from Dumbledore, and there was still a man huddled over there who was involved, somehow, in his parents' deaths.

"And James gave several good reasons for Sirius being the Secret-Keeper," Dumbledore continued. "He was James's best friend, and there was no way that he would turn to Voldemort-" Harry did have to admire how Dumbledore ignored the way Lupin shivered and McGonagall flinched and Pettigrew moaned and Ron jumped out of his chair "-because of his dislike of the Dark Arts. He had conflicts with his family, the Blacks, over being Dark, and ran away to live with James as soon as he could."

Harry felt as though he couldn't _be _more attentive. It was like his ears were growing, stretching towards Dumbledore. He knew his eyes were wide. He could sit here for the rest of his life and listen.

He just wanted to _know_.

_Then you shall, _said Dash, and nothing more. Harry decided that Dash must have accepted they had to listen to Dumbledore for right now, and decided to wait.

"But I suspect that Sirius, who was always making plans and coming up with pranks that James knew nothing about-" Lupin bent his head, although Dumbledore didn't look at him "-came up with another brilliant idea. He must have told James that too many people would suspect Sirius as his Secret-Keeper, because they were best friends. And there was a reason that they did not want to make Remus their Secret-Keeper." Dumbledore turned to Remus. "Was that the way it happened, Remus?"

"I never knew anything about how Peter came to be involved," Lupin whispered, and it sounded as though he were gasping for breath. "But yes, I knew Sirius and James distrusted me. They thought I was going to become Dark more easily because You-Know-Who was holding out incentives for people like me to join him. They didn't feel safe asking me about that. They just assumed." And Remus sealed his lips.

"People like him?" Ron whispered to Harry. "What does _that _mean? I'm getting sick of secrets."

Harry nodded, but didn't say anything. He was sick of secrets, too, but he didn't want to interrupt when Dumbledore or Lupin or _someone _was finally going to tell them what was really going on.

_It is good that I can speak to you and not be heard, _Dash said, abruptly enough to make Harry jump. _You are too trusting. You think they'll tell you the truth now, when they haven't bothered to do that so far?_

Harry covered one of Dash's scales with his hand and listened harder. Yes, all right, everyone from the Dursleys on up hadn't told him the truth about his parents, but he had to know what they said before he could work on separating the truth from the lies.

"So," said Dumbledore, and turned back to look at Pettigrew. His eyes were sad, but he had started stroking his beard again. "My guess is that Sirius urged James and Lily to take Peter as their Secret-Keeper instead. Peter had none of the fearsome reputation among the Death Eaters that Sirius and James already did as daring fighters. And he didn't have the closeness to James, either. Sirius probably thought no one would suspect he was the Secret-Keeper."

Pettigrew bowed his head further and further, until his nose was touching the floor. He was sniffling so hard that Harry was surprised the floor wasn't covered with bogies. But he still didn't look up.

"How can we tell for certain without Veritaserum, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"We cannot legally use it, Minerva," said Dumbledore. Harry wondered why not, but he didn't get a chance to think about it for long. "But if I am not wrong in my suspicions, there is someone else who can tell us the truth-provided we have him here and calm enough that he can respond rationally."

Dumbledore looked at Lupin. Lupin looked at the floor.

"If there was one unknown Animagus among your friends," said Dumbledore, and Harry thought he was speaking gently, the way Aunt Marge spoke to Ripper, "then there may have been more. And Peter was the least in power. What were the others?"

Lupin sounded as if breathing was painful when he answered. "James was a stag. He always said that he needed to be fast to keep up with the rest of us."

_My father was a Stag Animagus. _Harry vowed to himself that he was always going to remember that. He was going to think of his father as a stag, probably a big black stag, with huge antlers. He was going to picture him galloping around his mum and baby Harry.

_You could also ask Lupin about what color he was and what he looked like, since he seems to know, _Dash said gently.

Harry ignored him for the moment. He could do that, but right now he just wanted to think about his father being big and swift and protective.

"And Sirius?" Dumbledore had reached out and put a hand on Lupin's shoulder, as if he thought that would help him speak somehow.

"Sirius-Sirius could turn into a big black dog," Lupin admitted, and then put his head down and gripped his face between his hands.

"Like the one I saw watching me!" Harry blurted. McGonagall turned to look at him first, and so he told her, "I've seen this dog watching me. I thought it was an ordinary dog, but now..." He looked at Lupin. "Is that why you told me to be careful?" he asked. "Because you didn't want Dash to kill the man who betrayed my parents?"

"He didn't betray them," said Lupin. His face was strained as he nodded at Pettigrew. "We know that now."

"Maybe," said Harry. He still thought it was strange that Sirius Black had broken away from Azkaban and tried to come to Hogwarts _now_, and he'd apparently been muttering about Hogwarts all the time. Why would he want to be here if he wasn't trying to kill Harry? "But you didn't know that, and you were still more concerned about him than me."

Lupin gave him a pale smile. "I wasn't, Harry. I didn't want you to become a murderer at such a young age."

_I would be the murderer, not you, _Dash said. _And since basilisks can have no guilt for defending the person they are bonded to, there would be no guilt and no murder. You should tell him that._

Harry touched Dash on the neck, and just said, "All right." He didn't know if he actually believed Lupin, but it made things make a little more sense now.

He turned back to Pettigrew, to find the man watching him, peering at him through hands that looked like paws. Pettigrew immediately tried to duck back behind them, but Harry was pretty tired of that, so he said, "Is that true? Did you become a Death Eater and betray my parents?"

Pettigrew squeaked again, but he seemed to think it was harder to look away from Harry than it was from the other adults. "I-I n-never meant," he whispered. "I th-thought it was g-going to be all r-right. I th-thought..." He abruptly started moaning and sobbing at the same time. "The Dark Lord tortured me! I never would have done it if he hadn't tortured me!"

Lupin was giving Pettigrew a look full of dislike and something else Harry couldn't distinguish. McGonagall was the one who said crisply, "You would never have done it if you weren't a coward, you mean," and turned to Dumbledore. "I know a spell that will tell us the location of any Animagus on the grounds. I don't often use it because there's no need and I would be blinded by my own glow anyway, but will you watch and see whether the spell will lead us to Black? It should look like a trail of blue light on the floor."

"We will look," said Dumbledore seriously, and nodded to Lupin, who was looking up now. He still didn't look at Harry, though. Harry looked at him instead, and wondered about something else.

_Did he know that Black could get in because he was roaming around disguised as a dog? Would the castle even keep him out if he was an animal? Probably not. It didn't keep Pettigrew out. And the Dementors couldn't find him._

Harry gazed down at his hands. He was sick and a little light-headed. Lupin was his parents' friend, but he had decided it was more important to keep secrets from Harry so he could help someone who he thought had _betrayed _Harry's parents. Maybe they could have caught Black right away if Lupin had told them about him being a dog Animagus.

_ And then we wouldn't have found out about this, _Dash said, pointing his nose at Pettigrew. Pettigrew huddled back into the corner of the room, as far as he could get from McGonagall or Harry or Dash or anyone else. _It worked out for the best._

Harry nodded, but he was feeling a little numb. It was all so many secrets and adults lying to him, he thought. When he came to the wizarding world, he'd thought that would change. Hagrid had told him the truth about his parents, and certainly lots of people had been honest with him about Voldemort and when he got in trouble. And they'd been honest about not wanting him to have Dash.

But they wanted to put his life in danger so they could protect the secrets of mass murderers.

_He wasn't._

_Lupin didn't know that, _Harry snapped back, and Dash kept silent as blue light flared around McGonagall and then sped away from her. It surrounded Pettigrew, who stared at his hands in dread, and then under the door. McGonagall looked around, but Harry knew she was in the middle of the light and couldn't see it.

Dumbledore stood up and opened the door, keeping his wand casually trained on Pettigrew. Well, after another look, Harry didn't think it was casual. He stood up.

"Where are you going, Harry?" Lupin turned to him quickly.

"I want to go with the Headmaster and find Black," said Harry. He thought he'd done well. He'd even remembered the Headmaster's title, and he didn't always do that.

Lupin shook his head. "There's a chance that Sirius is crazy and doesn't remember that he's innocent. You have to stay here until we can figure out if you're in danger from him or not."

Harry just stared at him. Lupin looked away as though someone had stung him. Harry petted Dash. "I have someone with me who would die to protect me," he said, and walked out the door behind Dumbledore. He heard Ron call him, but he stayed where he was.

Dumbledore turned around when they were outside in the corridor and gave Harry a kindly look. "Wanting revenge for your parents is very natural, Harry," he said. "But you need to wait until we can bring Black in. We don't understand exactly what's going on here, and we don't want to strike without need."

"I'm coming along because I want the _truth_," Harry retorted, feeling stung himself.

After that, he and Dumbledore made the walk down the trail of blue light in silence.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until the Slytherin first-year Severus had been tutoring in Potions so she wouldn't embarrass his House came flying back through his office door almost crying out that Severus realized something strange was going on.<p>

He recognized the trail of blue light blazing above the stairs to the dungeon at once. It was a rarely-used spell that would lead someone straight to an Animagus. Useless in cases where the Animagus could fly or swim, of course, unless the one following the trail could do the same thing, and useless to the person who cast the spell if they were Animagi themselves, but possible to track other than that.

Severus arched his brows. He assumed Minerva had her reasons to cast the spell, and would have agents walking the trail-

Footsteps sounded above him. For reasons that he found hard to define, even to himself, Severus stepped back into the shadows and let the seekers pass him.

One was Albus, his wand held out over the trail and a soft whisper passing his lips. Severus recognized a spell that would keep the trail lit. Perhaps it had started to fade before they got this far.

And behind him came the damnable Potter boy, with the snake around his neck, as usual.

Severus took a moment to consider the situation. It was the middle of the evening, and he had no detentions to supervise. On the other hand, this surely had nothing to do with him. Perhaps Albus was giving the boy extra tutoring in Transfiguration. It would be like him to do that, when he sensed a student he favored was straying from him. If he enchanted them with knowledge, he might count them as loyal again.

But if it had nothing to do with him, that made it more fascinating to any true Slytherin.

Severus cast a Disillusionment Charm around himself before he crept after Albus and Potter. It wasn't good enough to fool Albus most of the time, but for the moment, he was intent on the trail, and didn't look behind him. Or perhaps he knew and wanted Severus there for his own reasons.

"He should be around here somewhere," Albus said, as he and the boy paused outside the entrance hall. "He wouldn't have gone far away from you."

Potter clenched a fist, but said nothing. He had his wand out, not raised. Severus would have said such things to a student of his who made the mistake that would have ensured he did not do it again. But Potter was only a student of Severus's in an Art that required no wand in the beginning stages.

_And a beginner at Potions is all Potter will ever be. _It irritated Severus to know that Lily's legacy of cleverness lay rotting in the boy's head, but there was no way to tap something that did not exist.

"Ah, there we are," said Albus, and cast a spell that made a light flare out from his wand in rings that concentrated themselves around each animal in the vicinity. Potter's vain basilisk seemed pleased with the effect, tilting his head as if to admire the dance of golden light on his scales.

But Severus was paying more attention to the creature he saw standing under the trees ahead of them, as if hoping that the light would fade away before they could notice it. It began to flee in the opposite direction from the castle when Albus's head turned towards it.

"Sirius Black, I presume," Albus said, and cast a spell that made a glass-like barrier spring up in front of the dog. It whipped around, growling, and Albus walked forwards with his hands held apart and his voice speaking calm words. "We know the truth now, Sirius. We've found Pettigrew, and he told us..."

Severus lost the sense of the next words under the mad pounding of the blood in his head.

_Sirius Black. _Sirius Black was a dog Animagus and apparently capable of sneaking onto the grounds despite Albus's reassurances that he had kept out anyone who could do that.

Sirius Black was once again receiving a fair chance from Albus, the kind of chance that he wouldn't have given to anyone else.

Sirius Black was right there, and capable of turning around and running at Potter faster than the inexperienced boy could defend himself. Albus wouldn't strike, of course, because he evidently nurtured some kind of absurd idea that Black could be redeemed, and they would have a dead Potter on their hands soon.

Severus stepped forwards, and wove his own spell. And as the great black dog turned around, Severus's cage coalesced around it, formed of steel and iron that no dog or wizard could break, no matter how much they might try. The dog's howl a second later, the way that he flung himself against the bars, said he was trying mightily.

Albus turned around and sighed at him. "Severus..."

Severus paid no attention. Either way, whether there was some story here or not, Sirius Black had to be captured. And there was a boy standing there whose eyes were darting back and forth between Black and Albus as though he couldn't decide who was the greater threat.

And there was a snake around Potter's neck who was watching Severus with something like fixed interest.

It could be no bad plan for Severus to endear himself both to the boy and his snake.

Severus moved forwards with a smile he knew was skull-like, but that didn't bother him. "Yes, Albus," he murmured, although Albus hadn't asked him. "By all means, let us see what Black has to say for himself."


	9. Pale With the Knowledge

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Nine—Pale With the Knowledge_

_I think you need to calm down. Your heartbeat sounds like a rabbit's._

There wasn't much Harry could say to that. He _knew _he should calm down, and not because of his heartbeat reminding Dash of prey. He thought he should calm down because he would fall over and die of a heart attack if he didn't, and then he would miss what was going to happen next.

Who Sirius Black really was, what the big black dog curled obstinately in the bottom of the cage looked like when he was transformed back into a man, what was going to happen to Pettigrew, the _truth, _what Ron would say and whether anyone was going to reassure him that Pettigrew hadn't spied on him pissing, whether Snape would manage to glare a hole through Dumbledore…

_If you want to know what happens next, then watch Snape, _Dash commanded. _I think he's the one who's going to act next. Dumbledore is just the one talking, and as we all know, there are more important creatures in the world than someone who just happens to be speaking English at the moment._

That made Harry snort and relax. A few of the adults, not used to his private conversations with Dash yet, glanced at him, but then they went right back to looking at Dumbledore. Ron actually gave Harry a wan smile. Maybe the snort reminded him there were normal things in the world, too.

_There's not much less normal than waking up and finding out your pet rat is an Animagus, _Harry thought, and punched Ron lightly on the shoulder. Ron relaxed even more.

The adults in McGonagall's office—McGonagall, Lupin, Pettigrew still in bonds in a corner, Snape, Dumbledore, and Harry supposed he had to count Black, if only as an adult dog—were mostly tense. But Snape was opening his mouth, and Dash bobbed his head for a second, a human gesture he liked. His tongue flicked out again. _He smells of anger. A good, clean scent. It usually means someone is going to kill something._

_That's not a good scent!_ Harry protested, a little horrified, but one of Dash's eyes turned towards him under its lid, and he knew the answer to that objection before Dash spoke it.

_It is when you might get to eat the dead thing._

_You prefer to kill your own prey anyway, _Harry thought grumpily back to Dash at the same second as Snape said, "All of these platitudes about friendship and the rest of it are beside the point, Albus. Surely our _mission _here is to find out why Black managed to transform into a dog, and how. And what do with him now."

"We must let him tell his story, of course, my dear boy," said Dumbledore, beaming at Snape, and Harry thought Snape liked being called "my dear boy" about as much as Harry liked it when Vernon was trying to show off before a stranger and called him "nephew." "But first, we must let Sirius know that it's safe enough to transform back."

"If he doesn't know that, he's mad, and can be of no help to us anyway," said Snape, and turned around to sneer at Black.

"Or perhaps you could make your cage larger," Dumbledore suggested, so gently that Harry glanced at him again. He didn't think Dumbledore's eyes were gentle, but it was hard to tell. He didn't think he had ever heard Dumbledore when he _wasn't _being gentle, for one thing, and for another, so what? What did it matter if he had to tell Snape that the cage was too small? That was the kind of error Harry would probably have made, if he was the one casting the cage.

_That's another spell you can learn, _said Dash thoughtfully. _Then you could trap some of my prey when it tried to escape._

Harry didn't even have time to retort. Snape had turned around and enlarged the cage without a word. All the dog did was snarl at them.

McGonagall took a step forwards and studied him. "I could force Sirius to reveal himself the way I did with Pettigrew, of course," she said, as though someone had demanded to know why she hadn't already. Harry thought all the adults were sounding uncertain, except Dumbledore. Well, and Pettigrew, but that was because Pettigrew was sniveling. "But I would rather not."

Harry stood up. Immediately everyone in the room was focused on him. It sort of made him dizzy. Why?

He walked up to the cage and stood there staring at the dog. It was definitely the same one he had seen watching him on Privet Drive.

"Listen," Harry said, staring at him. "You're Sirius Black, and an Animagus, and my godfather." That was still strange to say. Dash shifted his weight, and Harry remembered and continued speaking, the way he had first wanted to, instead of getting overwhelmed by the strangeness. "And I don't know if you really betrayed my parents or if you and Pettigrew did it together or if it was just him. I'll never know if you don't change back. Because _he'll _never tell the truth." He didn't glance at Pettigrew, just sort of flickered his finger at him. "Are you going to change back or not?"

Black edged one paw forwards, then another. Then Dash moved his head so he could see around Harry's neck, and Black froze and snarled at him.

"Don't mind him," Harry said. "He won't kill anyone I don't tell him to."

_Except people who are harming you, _Dash said helpfully. _Or currently in rat form._

The dog went on peering at Dash. Harry was a little lost. He didn't know what Black had against Dash—how could he have anything, when Dash had just hatched a few weeks ago and Black had gone to prison years ago?—but he repeated, "He's my basilisk, and he won't kill you. Dumbledore has mirrors that will stop him. See?" He pointed at one of the silver objects hovering overhead.

_Why did you tell him that? _Dash curled sulkily like a huge garland, dangling himself in two roughly equal halves over Harry's neck. _You make me sound so much less impressive than I actually am._

Harry just petted Dash, and watched. Whatever Black's mysterious problem was, they weren't going to get any information on that until he changed back, either.

Finally, Black sort of shivered and transformed. He kept his head bowed, and McGonagall immediately conjured some clothes onto him, too. Black kept staring down as if he was examining his pale arms and stunned not to find fur. Then he took a deep breath and looked up.

Harry winced. The flash of his dark eyes was…sort of insane.

"It was Peter," said Black, his voice a rasp. "It was all him." He looked at Harry. "And I don't _like _snakes."

"Not you, too," said Harry. "I tell everyone that he won't hurt them, and they still want to take him away. And then they're just getting used to him, and you're someone else who's not used to him and wants him to go away." He touched Dash when he would have lifted his head. He wasn't sure that was a good idea right now. Black was so mad he might think Dash was striking at him. "Can't you just accept him?"

Black was staring intently at Harry, and didn't respond for a minute. No one else spoke up, either. Harry was sort of surprised. He knew why Ron didn't, and Pettigrew was crying into his hands by now, but he had thought Dumbledore would have some wise words, or Snape would insult Harry's intelligence, or McGonagall would take over and tell him what to do next, or Lupin would do something that proved why he was a good professor.

_Maybe they don't know how to handle this any more than I do. They probably haven't had someone turn out to be an Animagus and innocent of a mass murder before._

"You look so much like James," Black said softly. "But James didn't grow up in the Muggle world. James never had to run away from home. James wasn't a Parselmouth." He looked back at Dash, and there was that feral expression on his face that made it hard to understand him again. "James would never have _tolerated _a basilisk that near him."

"I'm not my dad, point made," Harry said. "But one reason I can't act more like him is that I don't know anything about him except the little bits and pieces other people have told me. Can you tell me more about him? I won't give up Dash—" The soft flick of Dash's tongue across his ear and the way he coiled his tail around Harry's wrist made it clear that Dash wasn't about to give him up, either. "But maybe if I knew more about my dad, I would understand more about the differences between us."

Black closed his eyes. His eyelids were trembling. "I never thought I would get a chance to do more than kill Peter," he whispered. "This way, I could be your godfather. If the Ministry accepts everything and I get my innocence established. Would you like that, Harry?"

"Of _course _I would," Harry said, and wondered if that was another reason Black had been reluctant to change back into a human. Did he think Harry would reject him because of what he'd been suspected of doing?

"But you don't really know me." Black was staring at him again, greedy and longing.

"Anyone would be better than the Dursleys," Harry said honestly. "But I still want to get to know you. Just like I want to get to know my dad. Can you tell me about him?"

* * *

><p>That was the point where Severus decided to intervene, because soon this would turn into a festival of weeping and good memories of James Potter, who needed no one else to idolize him.<p>

But he had to admit, so far he had been just as fascinated as the others, though not because of the sentimental memories of friendship that paralyzed Lupin, or the tears he could see gathering at the corners of Minerva's eyes, or the presumably dotty plans that must have crossed Dumbledore's mind. He was seeing another side to the boy, one that he hadn't known about before.

Potter had _manipulated _Black into transforming. He was essentially manipulating him by promising to act more like his bloody father if Black would trade him some truth. Whether anyone else saw it in the same way, Severus honestly did not care. What interested _him _was that Potter was more than the shallow puddle of scarlet and gold obsession that Severus had taken him for.

Well, he had known that from the minute the basilisk had bonded to the boy. But being a Parselmouth was one thing, and having a talent for manipulation was another. He had never thought about it before. The boy got around the professors and broke the rules more than he should have, but Severus had thought that was simply coasting on the dazzling comet trail of his reputation.

_How much of it was manipulation that he apparently knows how to exercise? And how long was I blinded, not looking at it, not acknowledging it, not recognizing it if I did see it? _

Severus shook his head. For someone who had his reputation as well as his experiences, that lapse was unforgivable.

Black had settled more comfortably on his haunches in the cage and opened his mouth. He seemed prone to reciting more tales of James the Sainted Potter, all because the boy had asked him to. And Potter went on gazing at Black, one hand resting on the scales of his snake. If that presented an incongruous picture, then perhaps Black no longer noticed, as long as he got the chance to talk about the man he'd worshipped.

It was up to Severus, of course, to interrupt.

"Surely the stories can wait until after the explanation?" he said coldly, and jerked his head at Pettigrew. "Has anyone summoned the Aurors? They can use the Veritaserum that you refuse to employ, Headmaster."

Dumbledore gave him a mild, speaking look. Severus simply looked back, unimpressed. He didn't know what the Headmaster was trying to prove, but he _did _know that he was not going to sit here and let Black play the martyr.

"I had hoped to have this handled and clarified before the arrival of the Aurors," said Dumbledore. "It is highly likely they wouldn't listen to us, or understand the complexities of the situation, and simply march Sirius off to be Kissed. Especially," he added, with a small frown on his face, "given Cornelius's involvement."

The Minister did have an irrational terror of Black, but Severus thought more of Dumbledore's reluctance came from his desire to hold onto control of the situation at all costs. He turned back to Black. "Perhaps _you _would explain, then, since Pettigrew seems unlikely to."

Black snapped his teeth in a way that made Severus wonder why he had never seen the feral beast hiding inside the man before this. "I was going to explain what his parents are like to a little orphan kid who knows nothing about them," he said coldly. "That's more important."

"No, Sirius, I'm afraid it isn't," said Minerva, and Severus was grateful to note that at least a _few _people were recovering from the trance that Potter seemed to have cast all of them into. "We do need to get this cleared up as soon as possible. For one thing, the Dementors might try to enter the school now that you're here in human form."

It was clear that Black hadn't thought of that. He grew pale enough to look like a Dementor's shadow himself, and then bowed his head.

"Fine." He spoke as though someone had taken a meat hook and was yanking the words out of him like gobbets of flesh. Severus sighed, a little sad he couldn't actually do that. "I was the Secret-Keeper. I suspected Remus. I knew no one would suspect Peter, and so I suggested that James make the switch. I said _I _was the one who killed him because I really did. If I hadn't suggested Peter, James would never have gone through with it."

Then his head flew up, and his eyes fastened on Pettigrew in a way that made Severus understand the hatred Black was _really _capable of, against which everything that he had ever expressed for Severus was a pale and ineffectual shadow. Pettigrew cowered back into the corner. Severus was sure that he would have fallen down if he wasn't already sitting.

"And he was already a bloody Death Eater," Black whispered. His voice was on the edge of raving, and his hands had curled around the bars of Severus's conjured cage. If he noticed how deeply they were cutting into his palms, making a slow slick of blood gather on the steel, he showed no sign of stopping because of that. "So he betrayed them to You-Know-Who, and when I figured it out and went to hunt him down, he shouted that accusation, and cast the spell that killed the Muggles, and cut off his finger, and escaped like the _rat _he is into the sewers."

Lupin shifted. There was a tautness in his face that Severus had never seen before. A moment later, he sneered at himself. _As though I regularly monitor the werewolf's expressions._

"Then it happened that way?" Lupin whispered. "A way that makes sense of everything, and means you're not a traitor?"

_Interesting that he's less worried about exchanging one traitor friend for another, _Severus thought.

"It happened that way, I swear it." Black shook his head back and forth. "And I kept myself sane in Azkaban because I could turn into a dog, and the Dementors ignore animals. It's like they don't see them." He reached out and touched Potter's face through the bars of the cage. Potter stood there and let him do it. His own expression was oddly blank, and he kept one hand on the scales of his basilisk as if that would give him all the truth he needed, without having to hear it from Black.

"Then I saw a photograph of Wormtail in his rat form on that kid's shoulder." Black jerked his head at Weasley, who jumped as though he was far from grateful at this sudden notice from an adult in the room. "And I realized he was at Hogwarts, and he might still be able to do something to harm Harry. We've _all _heard that rumor about You-Know-Who coming back. Maybe it's just a rumor. I couldn't risk it."

Once again, he turned melting eyes on Potter. Potter remained blank for the oddest, longest moment, and then handed Black a hesitant smile.

"You came because I was in danger?" Potter asked.

"Yes," said Black at once. "It was my responsibility as a godfather."

The basilisk hissed something. Potter hissed back. Black blinked and shifted around uneasily. Even Lupin looked as though he would rather that Potter hadn't done that.

_How are they going to handle a godson who's much less Gryffindor than they supposed? _Severus thought. He would think that, he would cling to the small spar of discomfort in what seemed an ocean of good fortune for two people he hated, _again_. He would not let himself despair, because he was not that sort of person. He would look at what he had not noticed, and what might surprise others as it had surprised him. _How are they going to handle that bloody great basilisk, I wonder? _

* * *

><p><em>I still want to know, <em>said Dash in Harry's head.

_I know, _said Harry, and stretched his arm out along Dash's back so that Dash could get even more warmth than he could from just coiling up on Harry's shoulders. _But I think we need to give him a chance to prove himself._

Dash settled down with a sulky shake of his tail. Harry sighed. He had asked why Black had run after Pettigrew if he cared so much about his responsibilities as a godfather. He should have stayed with Harry and taken care of him, Dash had said. It was what Dash would do.

Harry said that Black wasn't a basilisk, which was true, but Dash only took that to mean he was less equipped to be a proper godfather, either.

Harry didn't know. His head ached. He wanted to know the truth, and he wanted to know the stories about his parents Black had promised, and he wanted the day to end. Really, too much had happened already.

"Shall we call the Aurors, Albus?" McGonagall had turned and looked at Headmaster Dumbledore. "We do have a story to offer them now, a story that might prevent the Minister from reaching for the Dementors at once."

Dumbledore stood there still and quiet for a moment. Harry didn't know why. But he was starting to think he didn't know the reason behind a lot of what adults did. He had always thought it was just the Dursleys he didn't understand; the professors had seemed pretty straightforward to him since he came to Hogwarts, except Snape with his weird grudge. But now Dumbledore was acting strange, too.

_There's a lot you don't understand, _said Dash, and he gently tapped Harry's left hand with his tail. _You need to learn more about politics. It seems that lots of people think you're important or strange because of your name. So you should learn more so they can't take advantage of you._

Harry nodded slowly. He supposed that was true. He hated the thought of spending too much time around the Minister or people like Lucius Malfoy, but on the other hand, he hated attention and Voldemort, too, and he had to put up with them.

At least he didn't have to worry about someone trying to kill him right now.

He looked at Black, and found him once again looking at Harry the way no one had ever looked—well, no _adult _had ever looked. Ron and Hermione had done it sometimes. That look said Harry was interesting and he wanted to spend time with him.

_I've looked at you that way, _said Dash. _And honestly, I'm the one that you should trust the most, because you can hear my mind and you know I'm not plotting against you._

Harry smiled up at Dash. _But you're not an adult, so I wasn't including you in that group, either._

Dash considered this, then curled his tongue in a way he had told Harry was more elegant than a human sniff. Harry hadn't bothered pointing out that a snake couldn't imitate a human sniff anyway. _All right. But you should think of me first, at the beginning of every list._

Harry grinned again. Dash could relax him, and make it sound as if everything would be all right.

And maybe it would be. Dumbledore was nodding decisively. "I trust that you won't mind remaining in the cage for a while longer, Sirius?" he asked, with a faint smile in Black's direction. "It might reassure the Minister if he seems to think you're confined."

"Yeah, I can do that," said Black, and sprawled back on his elbows and heels. He was kind of like a dog even when he was in human form, Harry thought. He turned his head and fixed his eyes on Harry. "Can I come and see you when this is all over, kid? And you'll still want to live with me?"

Harry nodded. His throat was thick. "And Dash can come and live with me, too?" He wanted to live with his godfather, but he wasn't going to do it if he couldn't have Dash.

Black paused, then smiled reluctantly. "Yeah. I suppose I'll eventually get used to having a snake around."

"In the meantime," said McGonagall, sounding so much like a professor that Harry jumped and glanced at her, "Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter have studying to return to." She opened the door to her office with a flick of her wand. "They should leave now."

"But nothing's been _resolved!_" Ron protested. Harry silently agreed. On the other hand, he was sort of grateful for an excuse to leave and get away from all the silent emotions swirling in the room. He needed to think about this.

"You will learn the results later," said McGonagall, and maybe something in Ron's face made her soften a bit. "I promise that we would not keep them from you. You deserve to know."

With that, even Ron could be contented, and Harry accompanied him down the steps. Dash dropped and slithered beside him instead of staying on his shoulder like usual. Harry thought it was because he felt exhausted and was stumbling a bit.

"Wow," said Ron, when they had walked down one set of steps and were waiting for the next staircase they needed to swing around. "What a day, mate!"

Harry nodded. Dash reached up and gently touched his plume to Harry's face, brushing it under his eyes.

_It'll all be better. You'll see._


	10. From a Distance

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Ten—From a Distance_

Draco didn't know what the—the _fuck _was going on with Potter since he got the snake, but he was coming to suspect that he was about to be left out of it.

He was already sick of that.

There were whispers all through the school the next day when Professor Lupin didn't show up for class, and the whispers said that he had been summoned to the Ministry to testify somehow in the trial of Sirius Black. Draco had closely questioned the fifth-year Slytherin who'd told him that, in an effort to understand why Sirius Black was getting a trial _now _when everyone knew what he'd done, but the fifth-year was regrettably a half-blood and from an independent family.

"Go do your own gossiping, Malfoy," had been all the girl said when Draco tried to demand more accurate information, and turned back to her own conversation.

Draco scowled.

He scowled even more at the next announcement, from the Head Table as the students started to leave lunch, that Potions classes were canceled for the afternoon, as the Ministry had also requested Professor Snape's presence.

"I suspect that you will enjoy the holiday," said Dumbledore, twinkling at everyone as though he fooled any student in Slytherin, and then sat down and continued on with his meal. His robes were a particularly nauseating shade of orange-pink today, Draco saw indignantly.

_No, we won't, _Draco thought, and stomped out of the Great Hall. Vince and Gregory were behind him as usual, but Theodore was also falling into line with him, and that was unusual.

"Do _you _know anything about this?" Draco asked, although he made sure to keep his tone more polite than it had been with the fifth-year. Theodore was one of Draco's yearmates, not older, but his father trusted him with some secrets that Lucius Malfoy hadn't seen the light about showing to Draco yet.

Theodore nodded, but paused as some Gryffindors went by before saying, under his breath, "Apparently they captured—well, Professor Snape captured—Sirius Black on the grounds yesterday. Only my father says that they don't think he did it anymore. Something about Peter Pettigrew being alive, and the real criminal."

Draco gaped before he could stop himself. Then, as Theodore glanced sideways at him in amusement, he tried to smooth his face out and look as cool and calm and knowing as possible.

"Of course he's the real criminal, if he's alive," Draco said, as calmly as he could. "He probably slaughtered all those Muggles."

"That's what my father's spies in the Ministry told him," Theodore murmured, and then moved ahead of Draco. Draco had meant to ask what Lupin had to do with all this, if Professor Snape was the one who had captured Black, but Theodore's leaving put an end to that. On the other hand, Theodore tended to do that when he had no secrets left to share, so Draco wasn't as put out as he might have been.

_And why haven't they summoned Potter? You'd think he would have been jumping up and down to go._

Cradling his wounded arm, Draco managed to draw near Potter. It was difficult, as they didn't have a class right now due to the canceling of Potions and Potter and his friends were walking as fast as they could for Gryffindor Tower. Potter was stroking his basilisk and alternating between English words with his friends and Parseltongue words with Dash.

_What an undignified name, _Draco thought, not for the first time. But right now he had more than the hope of a basilisk of his own for wanting to get an in with Potter. He also had the hope of gossip.

"Potter!" he called, and hoped he sounded friendly. "Wait up!"

Potter turned to glance at him, but while his face wasn't angry, Draco had the distinct impression that was because he was thinking of something else, not because he had deeply considered Draco's merits and come to the obvious conclusion. "What is it, Malfoy? I'm busy."

"I want to know about Sirius Black and all this business about him being captured and Professor Snape being called to testify," said Draco, abandoning his attempt at friendliness. If Potter could be business-like, Draco could, too, even though it wasn't the way he'd prefer to act towards Potter. "Why aren't you with them?"

Potter shrugged. "They said they would tell me the results as soon as the Aurors get done trying Pettigrew." And then he tried to turn around and _leave _again, as though he hadn't just told Draco something even juicier than Theodore had. At least he knew Theodore's sources. He couldn't believe that Professor Snape would just confide in Potter like that!

He reached out one hand to grip Potter's shoulder.

The basilisk hissed.

Draco found himself stopping all motion. And it wasn't that the basilisk had paralyzed him—his lids were still over his eyes. It was just, one sound of that hiss and you just wanted to stand still for a little while, that was all. Draco thought even his father would have stood still, although that would be in respect and not fear.

"Don't touch me," said Potter, turning back around and sending Draco a little frown. "Dash doesn't want you to."

"Fine," said Draco. He was proud of himself for shaking off the intense desire to keep standing still, and addressing Potter like an adult instead. "I won't touch you. But how do _you_ know so much? The whole school's humming and no one knows, so how do you know?"

For some strange reason, Potter smiled. "One instant you think I ought to be at the center of it because Sirius is my godfather, and the next instant you're wondering how I know?" The basilisk swayed against him, and Potter absently stroked its neck, the way that Draco had seen some children (not himself, of course) tap a lucky quill. "You're not consistent, Malfoy. And consistency is a virtue, you know."

Potter was imitating his father. He _had _to be. It was a lesson that Lucius tried to teach Draco all the time. Draco scowled. "Don't make fun of me."

Potter shrugged. "Well, I hope that the newspapers and the Aurors are going to tell the truth this time, so it'll be out in a few days, anyway. Pettigrew was a rat Animagus. He was—hiding near me and spying on me." For some reason, Potter turned red, but Draco didn't know why he would be lying about this. Like he said, it would be all out in the papers if it was true, and right now, Draco was listening with breathless attention that had to gratify Potter. "Dash smelled him, and said he smelled human. So we caught Sirius, and it turned out that the reason he came here was to protect me from Pettigrew."

Weasley pulled on Potter's arm and whispered something. Potter nodded. "Right. See you, Malfoy."

And off they jogged. Draco stood there with his mouth open, wanting to ask more, but also not wanting to push his luck in case he destroyed the unusual good mood that had made Potter tell him that much in the first place.

Of course, that only sparked more thoughts. How had Black known about Pettigrew? Where had Pettigrew hidden all these years? If he had come here to spy on Potter on his own, did that mean the Dark Lord was coming back?

But eventually, Draco managed to shrug off his questions and trot back to the Slytherin common room, smug. _He _knew even more than Theodore did, now. He could sit on one of the couches and hint at people, and even the independent fifth-year would come to him to hear the gossip. He would be more popular than usual for a little while.

It was almost enough to make Draco thank Potter. Or would have been if it had been combined with reassurance about when Potter would give him a basilisk egg.

* * *

><p>"Did you have to tell him even that much, mate?" Ron flopped back on his bed and stretched out his arms as if he wanted to embrace the ceiling. "He's going to run around all smug and using it for gossip, and he'll laugh his <em>arse <em>off when he finds out that Pettigrew was Scabbers."

"Dash said it was okay," Harry muttered, as neutrally as he could, rooting in his trunk for more of his school robes. He'd spilled a glass of pumpkin juice on the ones he was wearing when Dumbledore had said that Potions was canceled for the day. And he'd spilled it on Dash, too. Dash had complained about that vigorously as they walked from the Great Hall to the Tower.

"Dash said _what_?" Ron spun around onto his elbows with his feet dangling off the bed. Harry frowned a little. Dash was also long enough to reach the foot of the bed, but Harry wouldn't be, even if he was lying closer to it than Ron was. He hoped he would be, too, someday, but it didn't seem likely.

"He said that Malfoy didn't smell aggressive." Harry shook his head a little when Ron stared at him. "Don't look at me like that. I was surprised, too. But that's what he said."

_And I was right, _Dash said, and looped his body around the pillow as he watched Harry take out the new robes. _He didn't attack you, did he?_

Harry looked at him in surprise. _Then why did you hiss at him when he tried to touch me?_

Dash looped his head upside-down, which was something he often did when he had seen a contradiction in his own actions and didn't want to admit it. _I meant that he didn't try to attack you _after all.

Harry laughed and went to the bathroom to put on the new robes. Dash didn't come with him. While he adored the warm water of the shower, he didn't like the cold tile, and usually refused to join Harry there unless he was actually going to wash. Luckily, their bond didn't seem to be affected by distance.

_Why aren't you angry about all the times that Malfoy harmed me in the past? _Harry asked, and took off his robes and shook them out. No, he would have to use a harsh Cleaning Charm on them to wear them again. He would just have to use the new ones.

_Because I wasn't there to see it. _Dash yawned, the sound audible to Harry at that distance. _But when I see him getting ready to attack you, then I would be ready to bite him._

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled on the new robes, then walked over to the mirror to adjust his tie. _I told you, you can't bite anyone._

_Now that the Headmaster has made my poison less deadly, I can. Some people need to be taught a lesson._

Harry paused in drawing his knot through. The way Dash had said those last words sounded…serious. _Who are you talking about? _

Dash didn't reply for a moment or two, which only concerned Harry more. _Dash? _he asked, and finished up with the tie. He wanted to be out there and with his basilisk as soon as possible.

_You don't need to sound as though I'm going to sneak out of your bed and bite anyone I encounter, _Dash said sulkily. _I'm saving my venom for when I need it._

_I'm just worried that you'll decide that's during a time when I'm not around. _Harry hurried out of the bathroom and lay on the bed next to Dash, accepting it as the basilisk carefully pushed the tip of his tongue into Harry's neck, gathering up the scent. _Or you might decide to use it on Sirius or something if he's annoying._

Dash lashed his tail. _I will if he changes his mind about you and I living together._

Harry stroked the soft, small scales on the back of Dash's neck, where they came together neatly enough that there were almost chinks between them. Dash tossed his head back and flicked his tongue out in what looked like drunken bliss. From his bed, Ron rolled his eyes.

"You're worse than Neville with Trevor, I swear," he muttered, and turned away to gather up his chess set. "Fancy a game?"

Harry didn't, actually, but he reckoned it would make Ron feel better. He was still tender about Scabbers, and no wonder. "Sure," he said, and scrambled to the end of the bed, while Dash arranged himself so that his head was in Harry's lap and most of his body was tucked under the covers for warmth.

_You can't always bite people, you know, _Harry told Dash as he stroked behind his plume this time. He was such a terrible chess player anyway that having a conversation with his basilisk while he played Ron didn't change things all that much. _What would have happened if you'd just swallowed Scabbers the way you wanted to? Then we wouldn't have the proof that Sirius was innocent, and I wouldn't be going to live with him._

_But then I could have bitten the Muggles. _

Harry snorted and leaned forwards to move his knight in what was probably the wrong direction. But it was worth it to watch Ron's face light up.

* * *

><p>Severus grimaced and swallowed the antidote to the Veritaserum. The eyes of the Wizengamot members who sat along the gallery railing were too speculative already. At least he had not been forced to confess <em>every <em>detail of his childhood interaction with the Marauders. There had been a few people interested in that, personal enemies or past parents of students, but Fudge had taken control of the questioning quickly and moved it in the right direction. Fudge was a competent politician when he had someone to tell him what to do.

Dumbledore, although he wasn't here now, was the one who had set Fudge on this particular path. And Fudge was still nodding and rubbing his hands. Even his usual animosity for Dumbledore, Severus thought, had been driven aside by his relief at having a clear path to follow through a confusing situation, and the thought of the scandal that might attach to the Ministry otherwise. They never _had _given Sirius Black a proper trial, Dumbledore had told Fudge thoughtfully right before he departed…

Now, Fudge held up his hands as though appealing to someone, and murmured to the member of the Wizengamot beside him, "We've heard all the testimony?"

"Yes," said that woman, a white-haired witch named Abigail Marcus, and leaned out as if she wanted to get a better look both at Pettigrew, in the prisoner's chair, and at Sirius Black, who sat not far away with an Auror guard beside him. "And I must admit, it makes things easier, knowing that someone who doesn't like Black is still prepared to testify that there was injustice done to him."

Severus kept his sneer to himself. This wasn't Hogwarts, where he would get away with it. And he wondered if any of those fools knew that he was here _only_ because Albus had ordered him to be.

Well, yes, and there was the potential chance of courting Potter's goodwill. But Severus was both unsure that this gesture was enough to win it and that Potter would really become as powerful as Severus thought he might. That was only a suspicion.

"The decision should be clear, then," said Fudge, and glanced from side to side as though he was prepared to throw out anyone who disagreed. Again, Severus concealed a sneer. In reality, the man was as soft and yielding as the foodstuff he was named after. "Who agrees that, based on the testimony of those parties involved and our witnesses, that Peter Pettigrew was guilty of the treachery against James and Lily Potter?"

So many hands went up that someone could potentially hide amongst them with their hand down. Still, Severus doubted many would. The evidence was too clear, and any secretly loyal Death Eaters—like Lucius Malfoy—would vote to save their own skins no matter what their sympathy with Pettigrew.

"And who agrees that Sirius Black should go free?" asked Fudge, and once again turned around, while beside him, Marcus counted the hands and scribbled down the numbers with a quill that was enchanted to move fast.

Again, hands rose. Severus glanced at Black. He was looking from face to face as if a little dazed, one hand rising to touch the stubble on his chin. Possibly there were tears filling his eyes, although Severus was far enough away not to be able to see them easily.

_So the mutt wins after all, _Severus thought, and swallowed a draught of bitterness greater than many of his own potions.

But it would damage him more to let it out. For one thing, he had already testified that he believed Black was innocent; he had been convinced by Pettigrew's stuttered words, by the fact that it was too great a coincidence for Pettigrew to survive and also to bear a Dark Mark, and even by what Black had said, Merlin help him. He would not turn his back on something he could not disown.

There was also still the fact of Potter.

Severus did not know that Potter _would _change the game between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore, between Dumbledore and the rest of the wizarding world, even between Severus and Black. He only thought it was possible.

He would retain that chance, the chance that he might be able to act freely someday, as long as he could.

* * *

><p>"Hey, kiddo. I'm—they freed me."<p>

Harry flew over to Sirius and grabbed him around the waist. Dash followed at a more dignified pace, and because Harry was holding Sirius, he felt him stiffen. Harry sniffed and glanced back and forth between Sirius and his snake. "Both of you, play nice."

_All basilisk s know how to do that. _Dash draped himself over Harry's shoulders and around his waist. _It's the rest of the world that refuses to play nice with us._

"It's not easy to get used to a bloody great snake twined around you," Sirius muttered, but he shook his head and smiled helplessly at Harry in the next second, as if he was—_charmed _by him, the way that so many adults seemed to be by Dudley. It was a way that only Mrs. Weasley had ever smiled at Harry, so it was pretty easy to forgive Sirius. "And now it's settled. You're going to come and live with me."

"Really?" Harry turned and glanced doubtfully at Dumbledore. They were in his office, and he had been standing behind his desk and watching Sirius and Harry's reunion with a little smile. Now, he lifted his eyebrows.

"Yes, my boy. I think it is what your parents would have wished. Sirius is your godfather, after all! They had reasons for making him so."

Harry breathed in deeply and spun around to look at Sirius. "And you'll tell me stories of them? All the ones you promised?"

"All the ones I promised and all the ones Remus can remember." Sirius reached down and shook Harry's shoulder a little, smiling. "He'll visit us a lot. And he'll be here as a professor, of course. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Him as a professor or him visiting us?" Harry asked, and laughed at the look on Sirius's face, and hugged him again. "Either. Both." He was happy with a kind of happiness that he didn't know what to do with; it kept bubbling up and flooding him, and he wanted to spin around in the middle of Dumbledore's office with his arms out, laughing. "This is—Sirius, I don't have any words for how _great _this is."

Sirius's face softened, and for the first time since he'd transformed, he really looked like an adult to Harry. His hands came to rest gently on Harry's shoulders. "I'll try to be worthy, then," he whispered into Harry's hair. "The way that I should have been in the first place. The godfather I always should have been."

_He was acting insane, and now he is not, _Dash said, his tongue shooting out as if he wanted to test Sirius's scent again, although Harry knew he had smelled it the minute they came into the room. _I wonder why that is?_

Harry hesitated. Sirius was acting normal now, but then again, Uncle Vernon could act normal in front of other people, too, like Mrs. Figg. "Are you—are you going to get counseling or something?" he asked. "You were kind of scary before."

"I—suppose I could." Sirius blinked and glanced at Dumbledore. "I'm hoping that the Headmaster here can recommend someone."

"I'd be happy to," said Dumbledore, and beamed kindly at both of them.

_I don't trust him. _But Harry thought he could distrust Dumbledore and still live with Sirius. For one thing, then they wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys.

_Someday, _Dash said dreamily, _I will visit them._

* * *

><p>"Professor Snape?"<p>

Severus turned around, staring. That was the last voice he had expected to hear, especially on the first day that Black was officially out of Ministry custody.

But Harry Potter stood in the doorway of his office, and he didn't back away or flush or flinch when Severus scowled at him. Perhaps the enormous snake on his shoulders had something to do with that. Oddly, Severus hoped not. Artificial bravery would not be of much use in most of the situations Potter was likely to find himself in.

"Yes?" Severus asked, and tried to make his voice less harsh than the croak that wanted to overcome it.

"I wanted to thank you for testifying the way you did for Sirius," said Potter, and his voice was precise, and perhaps the snake had been good for his diction, too, because he spoke the words clearly, not in the disgusting mumble that was one of Severus's biggest objections to Gryffindors. "I know he won't thank you for it. Maybe someday one of you will tell me why. But I wanted to say it."

Severus blinked and stared, and Potter turned and slipped away. A Slytherin couldn't have done it better.

Severus stood there for a second, and then nodded quietly to himself.

It still might be true that Potter wouldn't change the game as much as Severus thought he would. But there was _something _there—kindness or humility or foresight—that could reach out to a man who had humiliated him often and had only recently changed his behavior.

Whatever it was, Severus wanted to be close to it, to ensure that the flame did not go out.


	11. Sparks That Will Settle

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Eleven-Sparks That Will Settle_

"Just a moment of your time, Mr. Potter. That's all it's going to take."

Harry could still hear the wheedling tone in Minister Fudge's voice when he'd said that. Harry had agreed, like the idiot he was, and that Dash was always telling him he was, and they'd gone out in front of the school so that the photographers could take their pictures and the reporters could interview the Minister about what an astonishing turn-around this was, finding Sirius Black innocent. They didn't seem interested in talking to Sirius or Harry at all.

No one was interested in talking to Dash, either, but they all wanted to snap photographs of him, and Dash, curled around Harry's arms and neck and waist and legs as if he wanted as much of his body as he could get to be in contact with as much of Harry as he could get, had a lot of comments on _them_.

_Who is that woman with the green glasses? Does she know that she looks like a beetle in them?_

Harry glanced a little sideways at the woman Dash was talking about, hoping he could do it without giving himself away. She _did _look ridiculous, but no, he doubted she knew it. She was holding up a parchment with a quill scribbling quickly on it. _I don't know her. _

_You know that you have to find out, right? _Dash's tongue was on the back of his neck, perfectly placed to make Harry start and ruin a picture that the nearest photographer was just snapping, of Fudge beaming over Harry's shoulder.

Fudge looked down chidingly. "I know you're not used to this much attention, my boy, but you'll have to _get _used to it! You're the Boy-Who-Lived!" And he turned back to the camera with a smile. Harry thought he would have already put one hand on Harry's shoulder, but the presence of Dash vetoed that.

_The more often you do that, the longer I have to stand here, _he thought to Dash, and pasted another false smile on his face.

_I know. But it's a brilliant chance to start your political education. _Dash pointed towards another reporter with his tail, without making it look like he was pointing. _Who's that? _

Harry did look, squinting, but all he could really see was that the wizard was short and white-haired and wore absolutely brilliant yellow robes that made some of Dumbledore's look sane. _I don't know. Why don't we find out? _

He waited until the next photograph had been snapped and the Minister was opening his mouth to speak again, and then tugged gently on his sleeve. "Excuse me, sir, but who's that?" he asked, nodding at the yellow-robed wizard. He had good manners when he wanted, he thought. Aunt Petunia would have been proud of him. He even smiled meekly when Fudge peered down at him as if surprised that Harry could talk on his own.

At least Fudge indulged him, looking over towards the yellow-robed wizard. He then laughed aloud, nearly making Harry jump again. It sounded like genuine laughter, which he hadn't known Fudge was capable of.

"Oh, _him_," Fudge said, shaking his head. "You don't need to worry about _him_, Harry." Again his hand twitched as if he was going to pat Harry on the shoulder or ruffle his hair, and again had thought better of it. "His name's Xenophilius Lovegood, and he publishes a rubbish paper called the _Quibbler _that no one pays attention to. He might ask you questions about your basilisk, since he's interested in all manner of magical creatures. But he's harmless!"

Harry nodded slowly, and wondered if perhaps he might want to speak to Lovegood more than some of the other reporters. None of them had asked _him_, anything, and certainly not about Dash, whom they preferred to pretend didn't exist outside pictures.

There were more questions the Minister answered, mostly about things that seemed deeply boring to Harry, and then he got a chance to break away. The Minister waved his hand grandly, and Harry broke into a run towards Lovegood before he could change his mind, or the Minister could and pull him back for another session of false smiles. It wasn't _as _bad as posing with Lockhart, but that didn't represent a huge improvement, for Harry.

He halted in front of Lovegood, who looked down at him with an impressive frown. His eyebrows jutted out like ledges. Harry caught his breath and asked the first thing that came into his mind. "Do you want to interview me about my basilisk?"

_Yes, he should, _Dash said, and stretched his head out and turned it to the side so that Lovegood could admire the soft green gleams in his dark scales if he wanted to. _Someone needs to publish a tribute so that when I come into my full, awesome dreafulness of being, the world is ready to deal with it._

Lovegood stared at him, then at Dash, and there was a longing in his eyes that Harry thought was different from the longing that Lupin or Sirius used to look at him, as if he was special but distant, or even the way Dumbledore looked at him sometimes, which Harry didn't understand at all. "I would love to talk to you about your basilisk," said Lovegood, and his eyes burned. "But I didn't think you liked being interviewed."

"I don't, when someone else is doing all the talking." Harry shifted so that Dash's tail, which was dragging on the ground between his feet, would fit around his leg again. "But you'd let me talk, right?"

Lovegood, still watching him with that intense gaze, nodded and took out his notebook. "You can say whatever you want. Although I can't promise I'll publish all of it. I have a responsibility to the public."

Harry grinned. That was more the sort of thing he'd hoped to hear. He _didn't _like being interviewed, but he also thought that _someone _should know about the sorts of things the Ministry didn't want to say.

_Like Dash says, I know to learn some more about this, or I'm just going to have people talking over me all the time. _

_You are learning the first lesson of having a basilisk, _said Dash. _Which is that the basilisk is always right._

Harry ignored that, and nodded to Lovegood. "Can I tell you how I found him?" He was sort of hoping that if Lovegood published that story, maybe someone who knew about basilisk eggs would see it and contact him. Harry still had questions about Dash and the way he'd hatched that Dash was no help with.

"Yes," said Lovegood, and waited, expectantly.

He didn't even ask any questions, he just wanted Harry to talk! Harry's opinion of him was improving. Lovegood might be crazy, but at least he was polite. "All right. So I'm a Parselmouth, and I heard someone calling me one night..."

Once he started talking, Lovegood started writing. He did ask a few questions, like about the Chamber of Secrets and the basilisk that had been in _there, _but most of the time he just wrote. Harry watched it with satisfaction. There would be an article about Dash, who was the reason that Harry had Sirius at all, and there might be answers, and Harry approved of both.

Harry finally ran out of words, and Lovegood looked up and nodded. "This is very important," he said. "New stories about magical creatures always are. The next edition of the _Quibbler _will carry your words." He hesitated. "Have you met my daughter Luna? She's in the year below yours. She would love to meet Dash."

Harry searched his mind, but he couldn't remember any girl named Lovegood, although he'd thought he would have remembered her. On the other hand, maybe she didn't wear yellow robes this bright. "No. What House is she in?"

"Ravenclaw." Lovegood gave him a strained smile. "She probably wouldn't be around you all that much, anyway. Gryffindor has most of their classes with Slytherin, don't they?"

"Yes, sir," said Harry absently, but he was still searching his mind. He thought he had _heard _someone talk about a girl named Lovegood, but it was a year ago, and it hadn't stuck in his mind, the way almost nothing had at the time except the voice he was hearing in the walls. "I'll look for her."

"Thank you," said Lovegood, which was so strange that Harry blinked at him. Lovegood leaned heavily towards him for a second. "I think she would be glad to have a...friend."

That was strange, but Harry didn't think he needed to worry about it. "All right," he said. "Thank you, sir." He turned around, then hesitated. Dash was silent on his shoulder, which meant he didn't object to Lovegood the way he did to a lot of other people, and that meant Harry could offer a treat that he didn't to most people. "Did you want to pet Dash? He likes the way you look at him." _That _much he knew was true without Dash even saying it, because Harry could feel it like a hum of contentment from his basilisk's mind.

Dash flickered out his tongue to taste the air and inclined his head in a small, gracious nod that Harry thought even Lovegood, who wasn't very familiar with Dash's personality, could understand. _Yes, by all means, let him touch me._

That sounded a little less promising, and Harry kept a sharp eye on Dash as Lovegood reached out with a trembling hand. But the tremor seemed to appease Dash, who said, _Well, here is someone who is properly respectful. Tell him that he may scratch the small scales behind my head. I haven't yet trained you to attend to them properly. _He turned his head to the side and almost lifted those scales up, something Harry hadn't known he could do.

"He'll let me touch him?" Lovegood choked out. "There?"

"Yes," said Harry, and watched as Lovegood scratched in between the scales, smiling and shaking his head a little. He didn't understand the fire that burned in Lovegood's eyes yet, but he thought he was beginning to. For whatever reason, Lovegood was someone who just wanted to _look _at animals, and think they were beautiful, and watch them. Harry supposed he was the same way with Quidditch players.

"Please tell him thank you," said Lovegood, and pulled his hand back. There were unshed tears in his eyes. "To be this close to a basilisk, a _unique _basilisk, born in such an unusual way..."

_Yes, you may tell him that he is welcome any time he wants to pet me again. _Dash curled his head around so his chin was almost upside-down. _He is a proper acolyte._

* * *

><p>The moment he stepped into the Potions classroom, Severus felt the change in the air. He held his wand close to his face as he swept down the aisle-a time when most of the students except a few Slytherins were too intimidated to look at him closely anyway-and cast a small spell that would tell him whether he was right.<p>

Yes. Over to the right side of the classroom crouched a shadow, if one looked for it. Severus might not have, if not for those spy's instincts that had let him know right away that something was different.

Potter, at least, was not betraying any sign that it was there, but arguing with Granger in a heated whisper. He shut up the moment he saw Severus, and sat up. Severus kept a careful eye on him. He would see if the boy's respectful behavior the other day translated into more respectful learning in the classroom.

Potter was at least paying attention, which was more than Severus could say for some of the Gryffindors. He would never understand _why _they chose the most physically dangerous class in the school-with the possible exception of NEWT Transfiguration-to dislodge their attention. He cast a simple spell that made a sharp _crack _echo through the air, apparently originating in his cloak, and watched as arses left chairs.

"You are brewing the Enlarging Solution today," said Severus. "The opposite of the Shrinking Solution that so many of you ruined a month ago." He sneered at the cowering Longbottom. The boy's cowardice was _infuriating. _He inspired fear in his classmates, and that was unforgivable. "The ingredients list is on the board." He waved his wand again, and they appeared. "You are to work _alone _on this potion."

Granger's mouth opened. Severus looked at her. Granger's mouth closed.

"I will know if you cheat and help each other," Severus added darkly, and to himself, _For example, if Longbottom creates a potion that is passable._

He began to pace slowly around the classroom, even though the students were scurrying for their ingredients and no one had actually begun to brew as yet. Draco was sneaking a glance at Potter, but that in and of itself was harmless. Severus would not interfere until the boy began to make enough of a nuisance of himself to disrupt the class.

No, his target was that shadow in the corner, the one that was cast by nothing, or at least was if you knew the contours of the walls and the door and the tables as well as Severus did.

It didn't move as he came closer to it, either, but Severus murmured the incantation for the Summer Breeze Charm, and something silken swayed atop it. Severus then cast the Body-Bind Charm, because he knew what it was now: Sirius Black hiding under Potter's Invisibility Cloak.

Black struggled for a moment, but he had collapsed with the Cloak over him, and Severus's glare intimidated the few children who glanced in his direction. Potter wasn't among them. He had gone to get his ingredients and was squinting at the instructions with commendable anxiety.

Severus cast another charm that would deflect light from Black's body and the Cloak and make them hard to see, and then floated them both into the air next to him. "I will be in my office for the moment," he said. "_Try _not to add bloodstains to the ones currently on the floor." He turned and stalked into his office with Black bobbing after him like a Muggle toy on the end of a string. Severus made no attempt to ease the journey for Black.

He had the answer to a question he had wandered about. Yes, Potter would thank Severus for his efforts on Black's behalf, but Black never would.

It wasn't worsening their rivalry to dump Black on the floor of his office and tear the Cloak off with a flick of his wand, sending it floating up to the ceiling. It wasn't even harming the delicate bond that Severus must hope to construct between himself and Potter. For one thing, he believed that Potter had not known Black was there.

For another, he thought part of the boy would disapprove of Black's antics. As long as Severus did not actually hurt Black, there was no reason that the boy would take Black's side over Severus's.

That was so unusual a thing to think about James Potter's son that Severus paused for a long moment before he cast a Silencing Charm on the door of the office, and then released Black from the Body-Bind.

Black leaped to his feet, his black hair swaying around his face. Severus watched him clinically. While the madness induced by Azkaban would not have not changed the man for the better in most people's eyes, it had a significant virtue from Severus's point-of-view. More viewers would now see the deranged maniac that had been there all along.

"You have no right to do this to me," Black snarled, and really, Severus ought to have known he was a dog Animagus, the same way he ought to have known Pettigrew for a rat the minute he saw the cringing, sniveling man as an adult. "I'm Harry's guardian and I have the right to check up on his education-"

"And were you planning to observe Lupin's classes in the same way?" Severus leaned an elbow on the table and watched Black. "Minerva's? Sinistra's?"

Black's baffled, angry silence was as good an answer as anything. Severus nodded and began prowling in a circle that would take him closer to Black at the endpoint. Black snarled and edged a hand towards his wand.

"You might want to take a care," Severus said softly.

"If you hurt me in this school, you're going to feel the wrath of Albus Dumbledore," said Black, with so much certainty that Severus had to stop an acid retort from escaping his lips.

_I know that. _He was sure that was why Albus had been so eager to give second chances to Black the minute he found out the man might be innocent, in fact: Albus had a level of affection for Black that he had showed no one else in Severus's experience. Not even Potter. Not even Lupin.

Not even the _younger _Potter.

"I am not telling you to take a care with me," said Severus. "I am telling you to take a care with your godson."

Black's eyes chilled, and he looked now more like Bellatrix than anyone sane had a right to do. On the other hand, Severus had already thought that Black was dangerously close to the edge of madness. "If you're suggesting that I'll reject him because he has that snake, I already told him he could keep it."

"But are you flexible enough to accept that he might be less the son of James Potter than he's currently perceived to be?" Severus smiled, and watched as Black twitched. It was like Severus's words were tiny poison darts, afflicting Black effortlessly, and Severus didn't even need to lie. "That he never knew his father, and therefore can't imitate him?"

Black laughed wildly. "That's rich, Snivellus! When the word around the school is that _you _can't see any difference between James and Harry!"

The urge to strike because of that despised nickname was very strong, but Severus held his hand. He had more words to give. "Can you accept that he is a Parselmouth? That he was almost Sorted into Slytherin?"

Black jerked against an invisible barrier this time, one that made him snap his teeth dangerously near Severus's head. "You're _lying_. Harry would _never_."

Severus laughed, enjoying this immensely. "You don't know nearly as much about your precious Harry as you think you do."

Black's hands closed into trembling fists. "I know that he would never trust you or do anything that you wanted him to."

Severus considered whether to tell Black about Potter's apology, and decided that he would not. That would create more trouble for Potter, and most of Severus's declarations so far were well-known facts, minus the one about the Sorting. And that was known to Albus, to whom Black would certainly speak.

Severus would seek to drive a slender wedge between Potter and his godfather if he could, because someone with Potter's potential should not be influenced solely by Sirius bloody Black. But a wedge that was made of truth and could not be traced back to him, Severus had no compunction about using.

"Perhaps you are right," said Severus, and managed to cant his head and shrug in such a way, he thought, that Black could not boast of the victory he had won by subduing Severus, because he had not subdued him, only made him acknowledge the truth. "But nor do I think he would like you spying on him beneath his Invisibility Cloak. Did you even ask before you borrowed it? Or did you take it without asking because you once again confused the son with the father, and didn't think he would mind?"

The pallor of Black's face told him the answer. Severus smiled in a way he knew was unpleasant and lifted his wand. Black snapped taut, but all Severus did was cast the Disillusionment Charm on him, send the Cloak floating back to him, and nod to the door of the classroom.

"Leave, Black. I won't tell Potter about this as long as you leave now and never return."

He could leave the threat unspoken, he thought, both of what he would do should Black return and the threat of blackmail that he could now hold over Black's head. He heard the low, rumbling snarl from the ripple of shadow that was Black's hidden form, and then he turned and strode out of the classroom.

Severus, well-satisfied, returned to the class, and found that no one had melted a table or a cauldron in the interim-although Longbottom did so less than five minutes later, creating a blast of green liquid and fumes that required trips to the hospital wing for three students.

Well. It was still a better day than many on which he had Potter's class to teach.

* * *

><p>"And I <em>know <em>that Potter could get me a basilisk if he wanted to..."

It was nothing personal, really it wasn't, but if Draco kept going on in that obsessive, obnoxious way about Potter, Blaise was going to have to kill him and bury the body somewhere. And thanks to his mum, he knew a lot about discreet burial of bodies.

"He just wants to keep the basilisks all to himself. As though you needed to be a Parselmouth to be able to communicate with a snake that speaks in your mind!"

_Should I point out that Potter could only create the bond in the first place because he's a Parselmouth? _Blaise wondered, and shifted so that his head was almost hanging upside-down off the couch in the Slytherin common room, to see if Draco would notice. Verdict: negative.

"He thinks he's so special sometimes! I need him to notice me."

_True, but still annoying, _Blaise decided, and rolled over. Draco was pacing in front of him, waving his arms. Some of the older Slytherins were giving him amused looks, but that didn't penetrate Draco's cloud of Potter-focused obliviousness the way any mocking attention usually did.

_This is _bad, Blaise decided, and broke into the tirade. "If you want a basilisk, why not go steal one yourself?"

Draco broke off and looked at him. "What?" He noticed the amused glances his way, now, and glared back. Several of the upper-years didn't bother to hide their snickers as they went back to their homework or NEWT reading, Lucius Malfoy's power or not.

"Well, that's the way Potter got one in the first place, ready?" Blaise hadn't read the details of Potter's story about the basilisk in the _Quibbler _closely, because he honestly didn't care, but Draco had read him the article aloud anyway, so he knew this much. "He went down and found these eggs, and just took one. If you find your way into the Chamber of Secrets, then you could do the same thing."

"You have to be a Parselmouth to find the Chamber of Secrets," Draco drawled slowly, sounding more like himself again.

"Just like you have to be a Parselmouth to bond a basilisk?" Blaise asked with a pointed look.

That made Draco stand up as though Blaise had shoved a wand up his arse. "Right," he said. "I'll find it. And I'll show _you_."

He flounced up to their bedroom. Blaise chuckled. Draco was extremely unlikely to find his way into the Chamber of Secrets by himself, and in the meantime, Blaise could enjoy some peace and quiet.

If Draco did manage it?

_Then Potter will have to rescue him, and Draco will resent him for it, and I'll have enjoyment of a different kind, _Blaise decided cheerfully, and went back to carefully correcting his Potions homework.


	12. Glowing Embers

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Twelve-Glowing Embers_

"You _really _took my Invisibility Cloak and came into Potions to spy on Professor Snape?"

Harry had asked the question for the second time, and although he had only known Sirius for a short time, he already recognized the look on Sirius's face. He was impatient, and he didn't know why Harry kept questioning him. He gave his head a slight toss that made his black hair fly wildly, and said, "Yeah. The sort of thing your dad would have done all the time."

Harry nodded uncertainly, but he couldn't help but wonder about that. His dad had taken Quidditch seriously, he knew that, and he had died protecting Harry. He didn't know much about his dad. But neither of the things he _did _know suggested that James Potter would have sneaked into Snape's Potions class.

And most of the other adults Harry knew wouldn't have done things like that, either. Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore and all the rest of them were too serious. The Dursleys wouldn't care.

_He is a different kind of adult, _said Dash, leaning his head on Harry's shoulder and watching Sirius with the yellow glow behind his eyelids. _You should be careful around him._

Harry nodded again, this time in response to Dash, and asked Sirius, "But he caught you?"

"Yeah." For a second, Sirius looked away. They were in the temporary quarters in Hogwarts that Dumbledore had given Sirius until he could see about getting a house elsewhere. Harry didn't think Sirius was very eager to get a house, though. He seemed to think that Hogwarts was home.

Harry could understand that. It was his home, too.

"He told me a bunch of things," Sirius said, and turned back to Harry with a speculative gleam in his eyes that made Harry uneasy. "He said that you were almost Sorted into Slytherin. Is that true?"

Harry thought about lying, because Sirius had talked enough about Slytherin and Gryffindor to make it clear where he stood, but he didn't want to start out his relationship with his godfather by lying about it. He nodded instead, and while Sirius frowned, Dash draped himself over Harry's shoulder and murmured, _It is nothing to be ashamed of._

_But you don't really understand the Houses or care about them, _Harry said. Dash had told him that the other day. He said that all humans looked the same to him, and he didn't understand why wearing different ties or robes was so important. The important thing was how they _smelled._

_No, but I know the differences are so shallow that they don't matter that much, _said Dash candidly. _And I won't have him making you miserable because you nearly went into one House instead of the other._

Dash gave a soft hiss, and Sirius started and looked back at him. Harry hastily put a hand on Dash's neck and tried to look innocent. Then he winced. Sirius was looking at Dash with new eyes.

"Is that why you almost got Sorted there?" Sirius asked quietly. "Because you're a Parselmouth?"

Harry shrugged. It had always been a gesture that the Dursleys hated, and even Sirius looked slightly impatient at it. But he didn't know what else to do. "I don't know. The Sorting Hat told me I had ambition and I could do well in Slytherin. But I said that I didn't want to go there, and it put me in Gryffindor."

In seconds, Sirius had taken a breath deep enough to inflate his chest and almost float him off the chair, like a cartoon on the telly that Harry had sneakily watched over Dudley's shoulder once. "_That's _the important thing, then. Not that you almost went into Slytherin, but that you made a choice for Gryffindor."

_That's not really what I did, _Harry thought in confusion. He had only asked the Sorting Hat to put him any place other than Slytherin, and it had obliged. That wasn't the same as choosing Gryffindor.

_I don't think it matters, _said Dash, and wound one coil around the back of Harry's neck, rubbing like someone giving him a massage. _You owe him the truth, but not this part. It would only confuse him._

Harry blinked. _But he's an adult. If I can understand it, then he should be able to understand it, too. _Harry was used to adults being a lot smarter and knowing a lot more than he did, although sometimes he had to keep secrets from them because they wouldn't be happy with him if they knew the truth.

_They don't always, _said Dash. He licked the side of Harry's neck and added, _If you get in trouble someday for not telling him this, then you can blame it on me. You can say I told you to keep it secret, which is true._

Harry relaxed. It wasn't like there was a lot he could do against Dash, or that Sirius could do to Dash to hurt him. So he turned to Sirius and muttered, "I'm glad that you can tell me all sorts of stories about my parents. But I want to know who they were. I don't want you to just do what they did. Can you tell me about Dad and not sneak into Snape's classroom anymore?"

Sirius looked at him earnestly. "I was just trying to see the way Snivellus treated you, Harry. I know it can't be right."

"You call him _Snivellus?_" Harry was a little horrified. He hadn't received that kind of nickname himself when he was in primary school, but that was mostly because Dudley was too stupid to think of one. And it irritated him enough to be called "Potty" by Malfoy and people like him. Snivellus sounded awful.

"Yeah," said Sirius, and gave Harry a conspiratorial grin. "He was always sniveling when he was a kid, whining when we pranked him. He'd fly into these _rages. _And he wore these tattered robes, and grey pants...Harry, what's wrong?"

Harry closed his eyes. Dash coiled close to him, not moving, but a tense and thrumming presence.

_I wear Dudley's clothes. And if my pants aren't grey, it's only because I washed them more often than that. Maybe Snape couldn't afford to wash them. Or something._

In truth, Harry didn't know why he was so upset. He thought Snape could take care of himself, just like Dash could take care of himself. And in the meantime, Sirius would never make fun of _Harry_. He'd just be angry if he found out about the Dursleys, and that would feel good, to have someone angry on his behalf.

_Someone other than me? _Dash said stiffly.

_You're wonderful, _said Harry, and rested his cheek against Dash. _But sometimes humans need other humans._

Dash considered that for a moment before he bobbed his head reluctantly. _Sometimes you do. Although I don't know why. The world would be so much more sensible if you all relied on how you smelled and didn't travel around with feet. I think it was deciding to have feet than made most of you so stupid. How can you have common sense when you're above the ground as far as that? _

"Harry?"

By now, Sirius's question was really anxious, and Harry opened his eyes and gave Sirius a weak smile. "I just want to hear about Dad," he said. "I don't know him at all. The Dursleys told me he was drunk and died in a car accident."

Sirius growled like the dog he could turn into, which was a chilling little sound, but when he was directing it towards the Dursleys, then Harry could approve of it. "Someday they'll get theirs, too," he said darkly, but then gave Harry a kind smile and said, "The first thing you should know that is how your dad became a stag Animagus. It took him _forever. _Much longer than it took me. First he saw the shadow of his antlers in a mirror, and he yelled and said that couldn't be him, that his head wasn't growing these _horns_. Then he wanted to be a predator like me and-like me, and he spent all this time trying to force himself to turn into one..."

Harry listened, and laughed. His Dad sounded like someone he could have told the truth to, he thought wistfully. He would have liked to meet him, even if it was just for a moment. He would have enjoyed talking to him about Snape and ragged clothes and all the things that he knew Sirius wouldn't really understand.

Even when he had an adult who was kind to him, there were too many things he wouldn't understand.

_I will._

Harry had never been more grateful for Dash. He put one hand on his scales and stroked in a sliding downwards motion as he kept listening to Sirius's stories.

* * *

><p>"But listen, you can't seriously <em>believe <em>all those creatures exist."

Draco had wandered through half the school that Saturday morning, it seemed, seeking Potter. He had finally tried the library only in desperation, but once he was there, it was a matter of following Granger's condescending voice. It sounded as if she had found a new victim to lecture, although Draco couldn't imagine who would have come near her willingly other than Weasley and Potter.

Potter sat in a chair leaning back from the table, his basilisk wound mostly in his lap, only his head dangling off Potter's shoulder like a picture Draco had once seen of himself on his mum's shoulder, his chin resting on her while he screamed. Draco frowned and put the thought aside. For one thing, he didn't like remembering that he had ever been that small and helpless and pouty. For another, the basilisk was tasting the air with his tongue, and Draco didn't want to smell like he was afraid.

He came marching up to the table and looked at the other two people there. Granger was sitting beside Potter, leaning across it while she waved one hand in the air. Facing her was a dreamy, smiling Ravenclaw girl. Draco struggled to recall her name. Looney? No, Luna.

"There's no such thing as Wrackspurts," said Granger, and brought one hand down on the table like Vince's father making a point. "I never read about them in any book."

Luna tilted her head to the side. She looked like a good pure-blood, Draco thought critically, but he couldn't immediately remember her last-name, which made it hard to be sure. She was pale and sort of pretty, although her silver eyes stood out too much. "And you never read about Hogwarts in a book before you came here," she said.

Granger stared at her, then puffed up. "That's different. Wizards deliberately keep themselves secret from Muggles. They say-"

"Potter," said Draco. He had wanted to cough quietly and not interrupt. But it didn't sound as though Granger would leave him a graceful opening to slide into the conversation, so it would have to be this way. "A moment of your time."

Potter turned around and looked at him without surprise. Then he nodded and stood. "All right, Malfoy," he said. He stood up and leaned across the table to shake Luna's hand while Dash readjusted himself with a grace that made Draco sick with envy. "It was nice to meet you, Luna. I'm glad you like Dash. Can I talk to you tomorrow?"

"Only in the afternoon," said the Ravenclaw, and looked around for a moment before she lowered her voice. "You see, in the morning, I'm going to be looking for my shoes."

"All right," said Potter, with no more than a blink, which irritated Draco for a moment. It made him suspect Potter was tolerating Draco's enquiry the way he tolerated Luna's eccentricities, rather than understanding it as something more important. "Maybe I could come and help you look for them, though?"

"That would be acceptable," said Luna, and gave him a serene smile that she extended to Draco. "You could do it, too. You have long fingers. That means you were born under a full moon, and you're good at finding things."

Draco blinked. He thought he remembered now why the name Looney had come to mind. "Of course," he said, and watched Luna turn back to Granger.

"You don't have long fingers," Luna continued seriously. "That means that you can't turn all the pages of the books well, and you were born under the half-moon. Did you know that people who were born under the half-moon can only see half the books that surround them? It's a dangerous affliction. For example..."

If he stayed listening to her for much longer, Draco thought his mind would start sliding gently away for him. He drew Potter away from the table and down a long aisle of books about Astronomy that didn't look as if they'd been disturbed much lately. The basilisk came with them, of course, and so did the whirring silver instruments that Dumbledore had enchanted to reflect the basilisk's gaze, but it was still a kind of privacy.

"I want to know how you found the Chamber of Secrets," said Draco, his gaze locked on Potter.

Potter had been watching him, one hand still on the basilisk as if looking at Draco needed all his concentration, but at those words, he snorted and began to stroke the snake again. Draco wondered if he should feel insulted.

"I told the _Quibbler _all about how I found Dash," said Potter tiredly. "You can go and read that article if you want to know more."

"I am above reading such rubbish," said Draco. "And besides, it has to have more to do with last year than this year. You only said that you heard Parseltongue this year and discovered it was coming from the Chamber of Secrets, but that implies a prior familiarity. How did you get down there in the _first _place?"

He thought his speech was impressive, but Potter was the one who stared at him. "Those are details from the _Quibbler _article," he said. "I thought you didn't read such rubbish?"

The basilisk hissed in amusement, or what Draco thought was amusement. Given that he wasn't a Parselmouth, he couldn't be sure. He glared at the basilisk in return. Why did Parseltongue have to come to someone like Potter, who was only a half-blood, and not a Slytherin at all, and couldn't appreciate a gift like it?

"I don't like people who lie to me," said Potter, as if he was continuing a conversation that Draco had started without realizing it. Or responding aloud to something his snake had said silently.

Draco _hated _the thought of people talking about him in a way he couldn't hear and answer back. He snapped, "I just want to know about the Chamber of Secrets. You can't mind discussing it that much, or you wouldn't have talked about it to the papers!"

"That was the only one that was interested in Dash for being Dash," said Potter, and his eyes had hardened. "Mr. Lovegood was kind. I don't like discussing what happened last year. Ginny almost _died. _Can you understand that?"

Lovegood must be the Luna girl's last name, Draco thought. A good pure-blood name, if somewhat debased by strange beliefs. "I need to find the way to the Chamber of Secrets," he said. "And I need to know if you can do it without being a Parselmouth."

"Why?" Potter shook his head as if baffled. "There's really nothing down there that you'd want to see. Full of bones and this ugly statue, and now the corpse of the basilisk that I killed there." He paused and tilted his head, and Draco was sure he was listening to something his snake had said. "Yes, well, that basilisk wasn't _you_," Potter muttered a second later, and Draco was even more sure of it.

Draco ignored the rudeness of that. Maybe if he was honest, then Potter would help him. Gryffindors liked honesty. "I want a basilisk of my own."

Potter blinked at him. "Why? Dash is neat, but you aren't a Parselmouth, and you couldn't bond with one of them. And he's a pain to feed, and just generally a pain sometimes."

The basilisk showed its fangs at Potter, who laughed. Draco shook his head. He would have a basilisk with a more dignified name than this one. He wondered why Potter had chosen it, and why the basilisk put up with it.

"I think the bonding would let me communicate with one even though I'm not a Parselmouth," said Draco. "And..."

He wondered how to explain his feeling about basilisks, about how he felt when he looked at the dangerous beast on Potter's shoulder, the utterly indifferent way that Potter ignored the glares he got for having it, the way he smiled at silent conversations. Draco wanted that crisp coolness of manner, he wanted that bravery, he wanted that spirit.

And he wanted someone who would care for him, just him.

"What I'm saying is that you couldn't bond with a basilisk in the first place, since you're not a Parselmouth," said Potter. He was looking at Draco in frustration, as though _Draco _was the one who was causing problems here instead of the one who was trying to solve them. "That's a requirement. And you have to be a Parselmouth to get into the Chamber, too."

"You could take me if you wanted," Draco said. "You could take me down there and show me the basilisk eggs, and we would see if one hatched and the basilisk that came out would take me as its master."

The snake on Potter's shoulder hissed sharply, and Potter looked a little shocked. But he started talking before Draco could wonder for long what had caused that. "You can't be a basilisk's _master. _That's what Dash says. You have to be its partner, bonded to it, and if you're still talking about being its master, then you probably aren't suited to have one at all. That's what Dash says," he repeated, maybe because he had seen the way Draco's face was closing up.

Draco, though, was thinking back to how he had bragged to Blaise that he would search for the Chamber of Secrets on his own, and not ask anyone where it was. He had got frustrated because he'd been trying for a few days and hadn't found anything, and so he had thought he would take a shortcut by asking Potter for help.

He should have listened to his own first instincts, the ones that said of course Potter would never want to help Draco, because he was a Slytherin.

_I should have listened._

"You take my words and twist them," Draco said. His voice trembled, and then firmed. That was good. He knew his father wouldn't be proud of him for seeking out Potter and begging for his help in the first place, but he could make it okay by standing on his own two feet now. "I didn't mean I would enslave a basilisk."

"But you still think it would serve you," said Potter. "Like Dobby. You would still be the most important one in the relationship."

Draco looked at Potter without answering. Didn't he _see _how hypocritical he was being? He was the one who carried Dash around on his shoulder and called it a name like _Dash _and let the Headmaster use mirrors and poison to restrain it. He was the one who was hurting his basilisk if anyone was.

"I shouldn't have come to you," said Draco, and turned and walked out of the aisle.

Potter called behind him, trying to make him come back, but Draco didn't, and he was glad again and proud of himself as he walked away. He had been weak. Fine. But he had paid for it, and he would never be that weak again.

At least it had happened in private. He would forge ahead from here, and find the Chamber, and he would hatch his own basilisk egg in front of a fire. Or maybe he would find a toad and a chicken's egg, and he would hatch his basilisk in the _traditional _way. There had been basilisks bred by wizards who weren't Parselmouths. Draco would do research on that.

Either way, he would be free. He wouldn't be dependent on Potter or Potter's basilisk or Professor Snape or his father or anyone else. He would have the basilisk he wanted, servant or friend or whatever he wanted.

He would _do _it.

* * *

><p>Severus took his seat at the High Table the next morning with much to think about.<p>

For one thing, Black hadn't come back and confronted him about his revelations, or Severus's treatment of him when he discovered Black hiding under the Invisibility Cloak, or Severus's past conflicts with the Marauders, or anything else. Knowing Black's usual behavior when upset, humiliated, taunted, or even slightly thwarted, Severus suspected Albus's hand at work in restraining Black.

For another, Potter had continued to come and go through the corridors and to Lupin's class with no speculative glances at Lupin. That indicated to Severus that Black and Lupin had not told Potter the truth about Lupin's lycanthropy.

_That _was delicious, and Severus had laid the revelation up like a jewel that he could look at when he wanted to. He didn't know if he would ever use it, any more than he might ever sell a precious stone, had he been lucky enough to inherit or acquire one that he didn't need for potions. But he sometimes touched it in the back of his mind and watched it sparkle.

And finally, Potter had come into Potions class yesterday and given him a long look, but he hadn't said anything to Severus about Black. Black _must _have told him. Of course he had. Severus could not comprehend a world where he had not. Still, he seemed to have left the matter between adults.

Severus knew few children with that wisdom. Even Draco would have said something to Severus if there had been a similar conflict between Severus and Lucius.

Potter might be one of those who could partially teach himself, without even Severus's conniving.

And now Potter was leaning over to speak with his friends, but his gaze was on the Slytherin table, where Draco was digging hard into his food nearly hard enough to break his fork. Severus arched his eyebrows. Potter didn't look as though he was plotting against Draco. He looked _worried _about him, of all things.

"Severus? I want to see you in my office now, please."

And that was Albus. Severus stood up easily, his gaze passing back and forth from face to face, noting that Lupin and Black were both absent from the High Table where they usually sat although last night hadn't been a full moon, and that Potter continued to look up at Draco and not at Severus.

_Life is more interesting now than it has been in years._


	13. Fanning the Flames

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Thirteen-Fanning the Flames_

"What is this about?" Severus asked, settling into the chair in front of Albus's desk that he kept for honored visitors, and alternating his bland gaze between Black and Lupin, who sat on either side of him.

Amazingly, he did feel as calm and bland as his voice suggested. He knew he had done nothing wrong, that he had even done something that would put Black in his debt by testifying at the Wizengamot trial. That meant he would not be compelled to put up with some of the nonsense that the so-called "Marauders" might get up to. Black might hate owing Severus the debt, but he would hesitate before attacking him in Albus's presence.

_That I should have to think about my safety in front of Albus, among other adults..._

But the thought of Black flailing around in this new world that he obviously didn't understand calmed him again. He turned back to Albus, who still hadn't spoken, but was sitting behind the desk and gazing at him with a spark deep in the back of his eyes.

"Well?" Severus asked, when some minutes had passed and still there was silence. He met Albus's gaze, and let a thought float near the surface of his mind that Albus could scoop off with Legilimency if he wanted to. _You cannot intimidate me this way, when I have been in so many Death Eater meetings._

Maybe that thought did strike Albus's mind and make him take notice, because he sat up and shook his head. "I wanted to caution you, Severus."

"In what way?" Severus didn't fold his arms or cross his legs, and thought he heard a frustrated growl from Black.

"Against revealing Remus's lycanthropy to young Harry," said Albus.

Severus blinked. It was true that he had once thought he'd do that. A hint dropped in the right ears, and parents would be clamoring for Lupin's withdrawal from the school.

But Severus would have to remain here and teach in an environment that Albus's chiding could make unpleasant for him. And since the Wizengamot had declared Black innocent, Severus had dropped the plan entirely. It would turn Potter against him finally and for good. If a child, like the Granger girl, happened to figure it out, of course...

Severus shrugged. "I won't. I wasn't planning on it," he added, and smiled as Albus studied him closely. He would register the truth in that statement. Most skilled practitioners of Legilimency, although they couldn't infallibly detect lies, _could _detect truth when it was stated with enough conviction.

"I don't believe you!" Black was on his feet, his finger thrust out into Severus's face. Severus only regarded him. His wand was within reach if he needed it. "You already tried to turn Harry against me once before! You'd do it with Remus!"

"If you are talking about the conversation that you and I had when you sneaked into my Potions class," Severus drawled, letting Albus hear the truth in this statement as well, "I didn't mention that to Potter."

"You told him stories that _prejudiced _him," said Black, and his scowl was reminiscent of a snarl even though he hadn't opened his mouth.

"I would rather say that I told you stories that prejudiced you," Severus countered instantly. "You were rather shocked at the tale of his near-Sorting into Slytherin, weren't you?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lupin startle in turn, and checked a smile. "You were disappointed to find out that he wasn't the father who died when he was one year old."

Black shook his head, and stubbornly stuck to the track. "You've been mistreating him _because _he's like James in all his classes so far! People told him that!"

_Who was your informant? Lupin? _Severus rather doubted the boy had complained of Severus himself. Or perhaps his Gryffindor friends had been chatty.

"It is true that I had misconceptions," said Severus, privately wondering why Albus was not stopping this charade. On the other hand, he had never figured out why Albus granted Black an indulgence and license that he did not offer to anyone else. "I have corrected those misconceptions, and I intend to treat him better now."

"You shouldn't have treated him badly _at all!_"

Severus had nothing to say to that, and simply watched Black. He wondered if Black would be this incensed if it was anyone other than Potter. Severus did not see him taking Neville Longbottom's side. Or if Black would have been more incensed if he hadn't had cause to doubt that Potter was exactly like his father.

"That is enough, Sirius," said Albus at last, cutting Black off as he opened his mouth to rant again. "In the meantime." He turned around and met Severus's eyes. "I must insist that you keep Remus's lycanthropy to yourself, Severus. And any other remarks that you may have been tempted to make about Sirius or James. It is not appropriate for you to be tormenting your students."

_You never cared before. _But Severus could easily give up "tormenting" Potter, since he had decided that being the boy's ally was more diplomatic. He only nodded, hiding his emotions. "Yes. I will do that. Can I go?"

"I don't trust him!"

"What would you suggest?" Severus asked, tired of this now, turning back to Black and letting his voice sharpen. "Albus asked me here to give him my word. If you doubt that-"

"I'm sure that we can trust Severus, Sirius." Lupin spoke for the first time, his amber eyes traveling back and forth from his friend's face to Severus's. Severus might have found them more reassuring if he didn't remember them glowing with madness in the darkness of a tunnel. "He promised, and he has to know what would happen if he broke that promise."

_Most likely, nothing, _Severus thought, and met Lupin's gaze solidly as well. _Albus needs me more than he needs you, whom he only gave a job out of pity. I was his spy. I may well be again._

As if he had read Severus's thoughts at that precise moment, Albus cut in. "Yes, you can trust Severus, Remus. Sirius." He spoke the last word as a reprimand, and Black sat down and scowled at Severus. "I would ask, in fact, that you excuse me and Severus. I need to speak to him alone."

Black opened his mouth, but Lupin stood up and walked over to the door that led out of the office, nodding to Severus. Black seemed to realize that he would look silly if he did anything but follow. Still, Severus was vaguely surprised when he did. Looking foolish had never stopped Black before. Severus wasn't even entirely sure that he _did _know when he would look foolish.

"Well," said Albus, when a few minutes had passed since the departure of the other two and Severus reckoned that Black had given up listening at the door, "I confess myself curious as to the source of your better treatment of Harry, Severus. Is it only the snake? Or did knowing that he might have been Sorted into Slytherin and made the choice to go elsewhere change your opinion of him?"

Severus gently tightened his Occlumency shields and smiled at Albus. "I reconsidered what you had told me, about the son not being the father. I realized you were right."

Albus only watched him. Severus only watched him back. He owed Albus much, but not perfect insight into his private thoughts and motivations.

Albus finally sighed and said, "Keep your counsel if you will. But you should know the Ministry is looking over my shoulder. Some of the things that Harry said in his interview with the _Quibbler_ have provoked them."

"What were they?" Severus had read the article himself, and except for a brief paragraph at the beginning which was typical Xenophilius Lovegood posturing about how wonderful magical creatures were and how more people should be paying them attention, it read like a children's story. Potter told things straightforwardly, Severus would give him that. Even his lies usually were direct.

"It was the existence of the interview itself that provoked them." Albus folded his hands on the desk. "Cornelius didn't like Harry speaking without his authorization."

"I see," said Severus. "And why are you telling me this?" It did seem like the kind of thing a godfather should deal with, more than a professor, particularly one who wasn't even Potter's Head of House.

"You have a few contacts in the Ministry that even I do not," Albus said neutrally. "I was hoping you could learn if Cornelius really does mean to do something to harm Harry, or whether this is political noise that will die down soon."

"You mean," said Severus, who did not know if he was enjoying himself or not, only that he was feeling a quicksilver mood rushing through him at the moment, "that I should be able to tell from the former Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy exactly what Fudge is planning to do. Because Lucius has him under his thumb."

"Not as bad as that, surely," said Albus, with a falsely hearty smile. Severus had never seen it be so false. "Cornelius does listen to me. On occasion."

"Sometimes, yes," Severus agreed, and tried not to stare at Albus. It was odd of him to act this way, but he had been odd ever since Potter had adopted his basilisk. Perhaps that event's ripples of strangeness had not yet subsided, at least for Albus.

_Perhaps not for any of us._

Severus stood, but he did ask one question, although he didn't think he would get an answer any more than he had the other times. "What makes you so forgiving of Black when you were not of others?" He would not mention his own name in connection with Black's, even for the length of a sentence.

Albus pushed his glasses up and looked at Severus with the distant gaze that Severus was well-accustomed to, as though Albus had temporarily forgotten what Severus's face looked like. "Hmmm? What was that, my boy?"

"You give him chances that you don't give other people," said Severus, and as he thought on it, he found a comparison that made more sense than the one with himself. "Even Potter. You wanted to read Potter's mind to look at his bond with the basilisk. You never did that with Black, even after he almost killed me." And there, there was the mention after all, so Severus might as well go the rest of the way and speak of what he had sworn to himself he not speak of. "Why did you never believe _my _side of the story, but you instantly believed Black's? Why were you so willing to think him innocent when you heard his story about Pettigrew, which must sound fantastic until it was confirmed under Veritaserum?"

Albus sighed a little. "My dear boy, I simply admired his courage."

"His courage," Severus repeated blankly. Yes, he had always known the headmaster favored Gryffindors, but that did not make sense of the sudden exclusion of Potter from Albus's good graces. After all, slaying a basilisk last year had required plenty of courage.

"His courage in running away from his family," said Albus, and his voice warmed in a way that assured Severus he was hearing the truth. Of course, he was a master Legilimens himself, although he rarely chose to make use of the talent against Albus. "And taking shelter with a family he could be sure would not send him back. He had the courage to stand up against his relatives when they violated his principles."

Severus was still for a moment.

That moment was the one when he could have walked out of Albus's office and not reacted. Instead, he lashed out and knocked the papers, silver instruments, and crystal globe on Albus's desk to the floor. Albus stared at him with genuine astonishment-_genuine, _Severus thought, _for once_-in his blue eyes.

"My boy," he whispered, "why? Why can compassion shown to one person trouble you so?"

"Because," said Severus, and leaned forwards with his teeth clenched, "you had no mercy on me when I almost died at the hands of your _principled_ Gryffindor. I thought it was because it was a Slytherin. But now I begin to understand why. Because I never stood up against my father? Because I never ran away from my mother and left her behind to face my father alone? Do I need to remind you that _Black _left a younger brother behind?"

Albus stared at him out of an incomprehension so deep that Severus knew at once he had not made the impression he meant to, violence or not. It could have been down to the difference in Houses. It could have been that Albus hadn't known Regulus Black, and hadn't known that Regulus had become a Death Eater mostly to please his parents.

It could be, Severus thought, that Albus knew somewhere in his heart he was wrong, and he wouldn't change his mind, because that would confront him with all the consequences of his mistakes.

"My dear boy," Albus said, "surely the past-"

"And what is your excuse with Potter?" Severus whispered. Something was coiling darkly in his mind, something thick and horrible, something with fangs that would shame a basilisk's. "Was his courage not great enough? Or does he not have the sort of family that you would applaud him for running from?"

Albus blinked, and blinked some more. Then he chuckled. "Harry grew up with Muggles, Severus. I hardly doubt that they had impressions or insights into Dark or Light magic that they could have offered him."

Severus stared, and said nothing for long moments. Then he murmured, "You gave him to Petunia Evans?"

"Petunia Dursley, as she's been for some time now," Albus corrected him, and gave Severus a soft smile. "If you would take the time to get to know Harry for himself, Severus, I think you would come to see him as his own person, and not simply a method to take revenge on James."

Severus returned something, he never remembered what, and turned for the door. But he did remember what he said when he stood there with his hand on the door. "What is it about Potter's courage that you find deficient, Headmaster?" he asked, his back turned.

Albus sighed. "The time is not right yet to discuss that with you, Severus."

"If you expect me to treat the boy the way you treat Black, then you should tell me."

"My dear Severus! Did I say that?"

"I want to know. I deserve to know, by the vow that I gave you."

There was a pause, and then Albus answered, again in a voice of truth. Severus knew that Albus generally did when Severus invoked Lily's name. "He has the courage to face basilisks and Voldemort, and even to go seeking a voice in the darkness when he doesn't know who's calling him. But I am not sure that he will have the courage to face what I must ask of him, and because of that, I dare not love him too much."

Severus closed the door noiselessly behind him.

* * *

><p>Harry stood up, even though Hermione was trying to keep him at the library table beside her. "Where are you going?" she hissed softly at him. "We need to work on this Transfiguration essay."<p>

"Malfoy is just over there," Harry told her. "I need to talk to him." He felt Dash shift on his shoulder, and heard the humming in the back of his mind that meant Dash was ready to talk to Malfoy, the way Harry had asked him. Harry had promised that he would translate what Dash had to say, but he thought his basilisk could get through to Malfoy where he couldn't, that he might even be honored Dash was talking to him.

Mind you, it had taken a lot of bribery with mice that Harry promised to catch and set loose in an abandoned portion of the dungeons before Dash would agree to talk to Malfoy. But Harry thought it would be worth it, if he could keep Malfoy from doing something stupid. Sure, he'd killed that basilisk, but that didn't make the Chamber safe.

_You must tell me more about how you killed it. I want to know, in case someone ever tries to kill me the same way when I'm trying to defend you, _Dash muttered at him.

_You can just look at my memories and get the story that way, _Harry said in a distracted voice, dodging after Malfoy. It looked like he was going into the section of the library that had books on the Founders' time. That made sense, given what he was after.

_I want to hear you tell it, _said Dash in an ominous tone, and his tail curled around the upper part of Harry's arm, just in the place where he would be Marked if he was a Death Eater, and squeezed.

_Okay, _Harry said, and rubbed his knuckles right behind Dash's plume. As he had thought would happen, that made Dash go boneless on him. He really couldn't resist being scratched right there. Harry grinned. He needed _some _advantage when he was dealing with Dash's size and smelling capabilities and poison and deadly gaze and magic and all the rest of it.

_I am pleased to note that you list a sharp sense of smell among my advantages._

Harry didn't have time to answer, because he came around a corner and nearly ran straight into Malfoy. Malfoy was kneeling over a thick book, frowning down at the dust that kept falling from the corners of its cover every time he turned a page. When he saw Harry, he stood up and turned around, clutching the book to him. Harry only had time to see a writhing illustration of a snake on the cover, but it was easy enough to guess what Founder Malfoy would be looking up if he intended to find the Chamber of Secrets.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy asked, and sneered at him. "You don't want anyone else getting their own basilisk, do you? You think it might make you less special?"

"Dash has something he wants to say to you," Harry said firmly, ignoring the temptation to respond to the insults. For one thing, a response wouldn't actually shut Malfoy up; he knew that. He extended his arm, and Dash wound slowly and gracefully along it, only flicking his tongue out when he was actually near Malfoy. Harry tried to ignore the way that the basilisk's weight was making his arm sag, and hoped it still looked impressive.

Malfoy went as still as though he expected to hear English coming out of Dash's mouth. It was certainly the first time Dash had been this focused on someone other than Harry, and Harry had to bite his lip a little. He was _not _jealous. He was the one who had asked Dash to do this, so he couldn't be jealous of the way Dash was regarding Malfoy.

_Remember this the next time you ask me to speak to someone else, _said Dash smugly.

Harry focused on Malfoy, and asked Dash, _What did you want to say to him?_

_That you only survived the way down to the Chamber because you speak Parseltongue, _said Dash. _There were all sorts of traps around us that I assumed you saw when we came back up through the tunnel, but then I realized you didn't. You were walking right past them, and they didn't affect you. They smelled like blood. This Slytherin of yours soaked them with his blood, and he must have thought that only someone who had his blood could speak properly and walk past them. He was wrong._

Harry shivered a little. _But I did take two other people with me into the Chamber when I went down there the first time._

_They didn't pass into the parts of the Chamber where the traps lurked, then. Or they were safe because they were with you._Dash cocked his head and flicked his tongue out. Malfoy didn't take his eyes from Dash's head. He was fascinated as Harry had seen no one else but Luna and her father be with a basilisk, although he also thought Malfoy was thinking about the advantages in power a basilisk would give him.

"Dash says that Slytherin left traps in the Chamber," Harry murmured. "I didn't even know about them. He left them covered with his blood, so that supposedly only someone of his blood could go down there."

Malfoy gave him a quick look. "But you aren't of the blood of Slytherin."

Harry wanted to retort that he must be more Slytherin than Malfoy was thinking, but he didn't see a reason to antagonize him like that. "The traps didn't work the way Slytherin thought they did. They would let anyone who was a Parselmouth pass." Harry shrugged. "I s'pose Slytherin thought that only someone who had his blood could be a Parselmouth. His loss. My gain." He put his hand on Dash's back.

Malfoy looked back and forth between him and Dash, and then said, "Then what's this nonsense about Weasleys being in the Chamber?"

"Ron came with me." Harry shrugged again. "Someone who came with me could pass through the traps, Dash said. Or at least that's the only explanation he can come up with." He _did _think telling Malfoy there might be safe parts of the Chamber wasn't a good idea.

_There shall be a dead mouse on your pillow in the morning, _said Dash, in tones of what might have been thunder if he was talking aloud.

"Then all you have to do is take me down to the Chamber and I would be-"

Malfoy abruptly stopped talking. Harry looked around for a second, thinking that someone had come up behind them and Malfoy didn't want to be seen talking to _Potter_ of all people, but then he realized Malfoy was looking at him with big eyes and a clamped white mouth.

"No," Malfoy whispered. "I asked for help once. I'm not going to do it again."

He turned his back and walked away again, and he took the big book with the snake on it with him. Harry stretched out a hand and opened his mouth, but he had no time to delay Malfoy, much like the last time, before someone _did _come up behind him.

"Potter."

Snape's voice made Harry try to flinch on instinct, but Dash coiled around him in a way that prevented that movement. Harry was sure that Dash had studied how to do that.

_Do not worry about the one Slytherin, _Dash said. _If you must insist on referring to them in that silly way and not by scent. He is young and stupid, and he will either not find the Chamber or he will find it and die. _

_Dash! That doesn't-_

_And the older one doesn't smell as though he wishes to harm you, _Dash finished smugly, his tail snapping back and forth.

Snape? Not wish to harm him? Harry reckoned he could see that, but for Snape to come find him in the library, he still must have done something pretty bad. He turned around and looked up at Snape, waiting.

Snape stood looking down at him with such a blank expression that Harry began to wonder if it was something Sirius had done, instead. He'd almost opened his mouth to apologize when Snape said, "Potter. Come with me. I must speak with you."

And he put a hand on Harry's elbow and began to steer him towards the dungeons, like he thought Harry might get lost or something.

Harry went, blinking.


	14. Blowup

Thank you again for all the reviews!

_Chapter Fourteen—Blowup_

Severus ushered Potter, and his snake, into his office, and then paused and checked the door. There was a Locking Charm on it already, but he strengthened it. He didn't want to think of what would happen if they got interrupted, and someone took what Severus was saying the wrong way.

Potter just stood there stolidly and watched him. He usually stroked his snake when he was stressed or upset, Severus had already learned, but right now, his hand lay limply on the basilisk's back. The basilisk itself had twisted his head in Severus's direction, but showed no sign of lifting his eyelids or baring his fangs or any other unusual mark of aggression.

_Perhaps this will work. _Severus inclined his head to Potter. He knew what he wanted to say, but now how to say it. "Would you care for some tea?"

Potter's eyes opened wide enough that he looked as if he was going to bolt. Severus was doubly glad of the Locking Charm on the door.

He was not so glad about the way the basilisk hissed, and raised his head. A second later, Potter shook his head and murmured, "No." The basilisk was still, but Potter's forehead furrowed, and he muttered, "No, really, I don't think so. No, it's solid. No, you _cannot _break it down."

Severus hid his immediate reaction to this chattering to the basilisk, which was that it was rude and undignified, and said dryly, "I assume you are talking about my door? I, too, would prefer if you did not break it down."

Potter flushed and shook his head. "Sorry, sir. I thought I was speaking in Parseltongue." He hesitated, and the basilisk's tail curved up and struck him in the back of the neck. Potter sighed, then said in the same put-upon voice Severus had heard children use when delivering a message from their parents, "Dash wants to know if you're going to put potions in the tea."

"No," said Severus, and kept his face bland. It was less difficult than he had expected, even though he did not want Potter to challenge him any more than he had when the boy was an annoyance and nothing more. After what he had learned in Dumbledore's office… "Only the charms that warm it."

Potter glanced away from him, cheeks still bright red. "Thank you, sir."

A second later, he was gazing at the basilisk, absorbed, in a way that made Severus assume he was speaking down the bond. Severus walked over to a cauldron that he kept for ordinary cooking when he was working late on a potion and could leave it for only a short time, and filled it with water. A second later, he lit the fire and reached for the leaves of the appropriate herbs that he kept on the shelves.

Potter was watching him again by the time he turned around. "Thanks for taking that so well, sir," he muttered, as though he assumed his basilisk's bad behavior required a second apology. He looked around, half-lost, and Severus drew his wand and conjured a chair. Potter dropped into it and poked the basilisk until it dropped and curled more on his lap than on his shoulders. "Not a lot of people would."

"I assume that your basilisk is not used to people respecting his opinions?" Severus cast another spell that would make the water's bubbles as it boiled increase in size, and began to sift in the right herbs.

"Well, I mean," said Potter, and touched the snake's neck. "My Housemates know to respect him _now_, or they'll be getting a snap at least. Dash wouldn't actually hurt them, but they don't like it anyway."

_Nor would I_, Severus thought, and simply nodded. He was still trying to feel out the steps of this conversation, but he did not think that making such a private confession to Potter right at the beginning was the way to do it.

Potter folded his arms a second later, as though he was hunching, and stared at Severus out of the corner of his eye. "It's nice of you to make tea for me and everything, sir, but what is this really about?"

_Fair enough_. Severus nodded and said, "In a moment, Mr. Potter. I want to finish the tea first."

Potter swallowed, but said nothing else. The basilisk lay down so that he was mostly arranged in Potter's lap, although the tail dangled off the side of the chair. Severus thought the basilisk could have managed the trick of curling more tightly still if he had wanted. Most likely, he had done this to leave an escape route open, or simply to see Severus's reaction.

Severus finished the tea at last, and handed a cup to Potter. Potter swallowed a scalding mouthful without pausing, then blinked and looked down at the cup. "I've never tasted herbs like this before," he said.

"They are my own private supply," said Severus. "I do occasionally brew something besides potions." That won a weak smile. He sat down across from Potter and gazed at him for a moment, and then said, "Mr. Potter, what kind of home do you come from?"

Potter's face closed in such hostility that Severus might have been rocked back had he not been partially expecting it. The basilisk stirred, but Severus paid no attention to him. He knew that the snake would not attack without Potter's authorization. And Potter would not give it for a mere question.

At least, Severus _thought _so.

"One where my parents died," said Potter, and then took another sip of his tea. Severus wondered if the boy knew that his hands were shaking on the cup. Probably not, or he would have done something to hide it. "You know that, sir. The first thing you said to me was a comment about the fame that I—that I got the night my parents died."

"I have changed my mind about you. I no longer think of you as a mindless celebrity."

The basilisk hissed. It was an unnerving sound, and all the more so when Severus knew that the creature was picking up not only on Potter's emotions, but on the sense of Severus's words as filtered through Potter's mind. There were other ways Potter could have reacted that would have made a difference in the basilisk's own reaction.

Then again, if Severus had not begun to believe there was something extraordinary about Potter and his reactions, he would not be here now talking to him. And the basilisk was occasionally useful as a guide to what was plunging through the inside of Potter's too-hidden mind.

"That's nice, sir," said Potter. "Was that because I thanked you for testifying at Sirius's trial?"

Severus started to answer, then paused. "Only partially," he said, and then shook his head. "Leading the discussion away from your home will not work, Mr. Potter. I knew you grew up with Muggles."

"Then you know _all you need to_."

"No," Severus said. "I do not." He leaned back and wondered if perhaps bluntness would work better than gentle indirection. It seemed that Potter already sensed what Severus wanted to ask. "Did they abuse you?"

The basilisk dropped from Potter's lap and slithered across the floor in a rustling pour of dark green scales. Severus moved his wand, and a shield sprang up in front of the snake. It was a shield he had specially tweaked himself, and the magic in it was strong enough to resist most Dark creatures.

It was true that Severus had never tried to resist a basilisk, and as the snake twined up next to the shield and looked at him, more straight-necked and intelligent than any cobra, he didn't know if it would be enough.

"I take it that question is not welcome," Severus said blandly, eyes on the clear, thick lids closing away the creature's dangerous gaze.

"You could say that. _Sir_."

Potter's face was nearly black with rage, and his hand positioned in his pocket as if curled around his wand, when Severus looked at him. Potter managed to loosen his grip with an effort, but he still shook his head. "You don't need to know."

"There are peculiar reasons that I do."

Potter cast him a burning glance, and then held out his arm. It took a minute, and a hiss of Parseltongue that sounded like rattling dice to Severus, but the basilisk flowed back across the room and climbed onto Potter's lap again.

"No," Potter said. He sounded a little more recovered when he could stroke the overlapping small scales on the back of his basilisk's neck and look down at the plume that was slowly flattening under his caresses. "You might have reasons, but I don't have to bloody agree with them."

"Language," said Severus. He could feel his temper rising, and resolved not to explode. That would only increase the separation between him and the boy. It was already fragile enough, this truce between them. "Listen, Mr. Potter. I think that I might have the power to change your situation. I could—"

Potter gave him a glance, and shook his head. "I don't need that," he said. "I already have someone who's going to make sure that things change." Again his hand lingered on the basilisk's neck.

"That would be a violent solution," said Severus. In truth, the answer Potter had given him was a clarification, although far from a detailed one. "I'm sure the Headmaster would prefer that you avoid such things."

Potter gave him a small, dark smile. "Do the reasons that you want to know more about my _family _have to do with Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"Yes," said Severus. It wasn't damaging to give away that much information, anyway.

Potter nodded. "Leave me out of it."

"Excuse me?" Severus could usually anticipate the twists that his students' minds made, the leaps and conclusions that they jumped to, but this one, he didn't understand even in a basic outline.

"You're angry with him, or something. Maybe because he never told you I was almost Sorted into Slytherin." Potter started to stand up, swinging the basilisk around his shoulders. His gaze didn't move from Severus's, but for once, Severus wasn't even tempted to reach for his Legilimency. "I don't want to—I don't want you to put me between you. I don't want to trick him or lie to him or anything."

"Even though he has not always treated you as well as he could have?" Severus was reaching for straws now, he knew, but he wanted to keep Potter from walking out of the room without actually testing Potter's anger against his Locking Charm.

"What do you mean by _that_?" Potter snapped. "He had to dilute Dash's poison to make sure other people were safe! I know that! I accepted that!"

"But first he looked into your mind," said Severus. He eased back and put down his teacup on the desk. He would not prevent Potter from walking out the door if he had to, he decided. This situation was not utterly unsalvageable. "He has not always listened to you, either. And he was the one who placed you with the Muggles that you live with."

Potter's face was white. He shook his head. "It doesn't _matter. _I'm going to live with Sirius, now. And that's something that the Headmaster _promised. _He said it was okay!"

"He probably did," Severus agreed. Thinking about it, he wasn't sure if he needed detailed confirmation of his relatives' abusive tendencies from Potter. "Very well. If you wish to go, you can." He waved his wand, and the door sprang open.

Typical Potter; now that he could leave, he acted as if he didn't want to. He glanced back and forth suspiciously between the door and Severus, and then set his heels. "Why are you asking this?"

"I asked him why he had believed your godfather when he did not believe me about certain things I had told him when I was a student," said Severus. He thought that neutral enough. "And it occurred to me that he did not believe you, either. And that—well. He hinted something about your family that disturbed me."

The basilisk bowed its head and hissed softly into Potter's ear. Potter either didn't notice or didn't care. "_What _could he have hinted? What are you talking about? You're not making any sense!"

_Neither are you, if nothing is truly wrong. _But Severus knew how he would have reacted if someone had tried to confront him about his family when he was a student, and although he didn't want to think of Potter and himself in the same thought any more than he had wanted to name Black and himself in the same breath, he could not ignore reality.

"I don't mean anything that we can discuss right now, Potter," he said. "Do go away."

The basilisk hissed again, but once again it was at Potter instead of at Severus. Potter stood white-faced and shaking for another long moment, and then wheeled and was gone into the darkness outside the door.

Severus sat down and looked at Potter's unfinished cup of tea, shaking his head. _That could have gone better._

Yes, it could have. But Severus at least had confirmation of several things:

Something was wrong with Potter's family life.

Potter also suspected that the Headmaster wasn't being honest with him, although whether he would do anything about it seemed unlikely. As the Headmaster was unable to face his mistakes, Severus feared that Potter would prove unable to confront the consequences of the Headmaster playing with his life.

Potter would restrain the basilisk if he ever came after Severus, or the basilisk would manage to restrain himself.

And this was not the end. Potter had not fled cursing Severus's name and vowing never to trust him again. That left the path open for another conversation at a later date, when Severus might have figured out the right questions to ask and the right vulnerabilities to reveal.

Severus sighed and sipped from his own tea. No, not a perfect conversation, but better by far than it could have been.

* * *

><p><em>He was right, you know.<em>

Harry gazed up and around. He hadn't even looked where he was going when he ran away from Snape's office. He'd just gone deeper into the dungeons, and that meant running until the walls seemed to blur around him. Now he was in a corner of the dungeons he didn't recognize, a rough corridor that looked as though someone had hacked it through solid rock.

_There is a lot wrong with those Muggles you grew up with, and the old man should not have left you there._

Harry shut his eyes. He wasn't crying. That was good. There was some other strange choking sensation in his throat, though, and that _wasn't _good.

Dash rested his head on top of Harry's hair. Harry could feel the soft dart of his tongue, which was so light that it tickled. Harry made an absent swatting motion, and Dash dodged easily and came down to wind around his neck again. _Why didn't you tell him about that? I don't think he would make fun of you, because I would bite him. He might take you away from there._

_I don't want anyone to know, _Harry snapped. He could have spoken aloud, but he was in enemy territory, Slytherin territory, and noise would alert people. He turned to find his way back to the stairs out of the dungeons.

_Why not? I know, and your friends must know at least a little, because they saw the bars on your windows. And the old man knows._

Sometimes Harry liked the way Dash could access his memories without him saying a word, and sometimes he really, really didn't. _Because what happens at the Dursleys' is private. That's why_.

_Why? You are not making sense. And my human should always make sense, because I do._

Harry shook his head restlessly and walked carefully around the corner, peering to make sure there were no Slytherins waiting to ambush him. _Because I don't want anyone to know it._

There was a long silence, as though Dash had decided to accept the argument. Harry was glad. It was hard enough to convince Dash to accept arguments most of the time, even ones that included instructions not to eat other people.

Then Dash said, _Ah. I understand now what it is that Hermione means when she talks about circular reasoning._

Harry snorted in exasperation, and then yelped when someone reached out from behind a nearby corner and grabbed his arm. He spun around with his heart hammering, reaching for his wand, and wondering why Dash hadn't warned him someone was there.

_You didn't say to warn you against this one. You wanted me to talk to him, in fact._

That at least told Harry who it was, and he relaxed and shook his head in irritation when he saw a pale face. "Malfoy. What do you want?"

"Were you _spying _on me?" Malfoy demanded.

Harry blinked. "How could I? Professor Snape just brought me down here for—" The truth wouldn't make much sense, given that it didn't make much sense even to Harry. "To discuss a detention. How could I know that you would be here, or even follow you? You're not making sense."

_You're learning to value sense, at least, even if you're not learning to express it, _said Dash approvingly.

Harry ignored him, squinting at Malfoy. Malfoy was a little pale, and he looked as though someone had dragged him facedown through dust, although that could just have come from the dusty part of the library where he'd been searching. He huddled over something Harry assumed was the big book about Slytherin he'd been holding earlier. "What's the matter, Malfoy? You look ill."

"I want to know if you were spying on me," Malfoy insisted.

"No, for all the reasons that I just _told _you," Harry snapped. Honestly, he was starting to wonder why he'd ever been concerned about Malfoy. He was just a git, all the way through. "I'll leave now, and then you can ask the shadows if they were. They'd probably give you the exact same answer." He turned away and tried not to stomp on his way up the corridor that he hoped would lead to the stairs.

_You're not stomping, _said Dash, twining around his arm and looking up into his face with what Harry knew was affection, although at the moment it didn't necessarily feel like that. _But you _are _sulking_.

Harry ignored that. He had tried and tried to be nice to Malfoy, and this was the only result he got. He didn't know what Malfoy's _problem _was, but he would try to ignore him from now on. At least until he apologized and made it clear that he regarded Harry as something more than just a means of procuring him a basilisk.

_Good, _said Dash. _That means you can spend some more time making me understand why you wish to go back to your Muggles._

_I don't want to do that, _Harry said. He was on the stairs leading up now. He wondered what he would say to Ron and Hermione if they asked him what Snape had wanted. Surely it must be all over the school by now that he had come up behind Harry in the library and hauled him off somewhere.

_Then what not tell this Professor Snape about it? Or your smelly dog-man? _Apparently, Dash objected to the canine scent that hung around Sirius, although he had said that was partially because he hadn't tasted a dog yet. _Either one of them would make sure that you didn't have to go back._

_It already doesn't matter, because we're going to live with Sirius, and I don't _have _to go back._

_Then it shouldn't matter if you talk about them either, because the situation is over and mentioning it can't hurt you._

_Tell me, do basilisks have arseholes to vanish up?_

* * *

><p>Once Draco was sure Potter was gone, he let out a shaky little breath and leaned back against the wall. That had been close. He had been about to cast the spell that would start the darkfire burning, and although Potter had looked as though he was oblivious to anything except whatever anger consumed him, Draco knew he would have smelled that.<p>

Or his basilisk would have.

_When I command my own basilisk, _Draco thought, as he turned back to the ritual preparations in front of him, _I shall tell it to let me know right away when it smells anything unusual. And that includes Potter's basilisk._

He examined the small firepit he had created on the floor, and then nodded. He thought this would work. The instructions in the book—and how clever Draco had been, to think of looking in the history section of the library, where someone might hide secrets that other people wouldn't find!—were pretty clear.

Draco crouched down in front of the firepit and took a moment to breathe deeply and clear his mind, the way that Professor Snape said he must if he wanted to judge situations objectively. Then he touched his wand to the edge of the firepit and murmured, "_Ignis inferiae_."

There was a long moment when Draco thought the spell wouldn't work, because it flickered on the edge of his wand as though reluctant to approach the rowan twigs and holly berries that Draco had ordered by owl from Hogsmeade. But then the spell caught, and Draco smiled as the small black flames danced up and down on the twigs and berries, eating them alive.

_Alive, but they're dead, _Draco thought a second later, and shook his head. He was running on little sleep. He knew that wasn't a good thing, but he wanted _so badly _to find the Chamber of Secrets.

When the fire had burned itself out, Draco reached out and carefully stirred through the ashes. He ignored how hot they still were, and cast them quickly on the floor in front of him. This worked like Divination magic, Salazar Slytherin's book had said, but only if they were used right away after the fire.

"The way to the Chamber of Secrets," Draco whispered as he threw them.

The ashes landed in what looked like a tangled, random cluster, and Draco drew in his breath sharply in disappointment. But the more he looked, the more he realized there _was _a pattern there. Letters. Not a map or a key, but a riddle.

Draco hastily got out the parchment he had kept in his pocket to draw something, and wrote it down instead. He didn't take his gaze from the ashes until he had got every last letter.

Of course, it looked like a complicated riddle and he knew it would probably take him a long time to solve. But at least this was a beginning step.

And he didn't care how long it would take him to find the Chamber, as long as he would finally have a basilisk at the end of it.


End file.
